SPRING BREAK
by SANDEFUR
Summary: Where else but Chicago?  A chance to settle matters.
1. Chapter 1

SPRING BREAK

by

SANDEFUR

Disclaimer: This is fanfiction just for fun. I have no claims.

Chicago, Illinois.

3-22-08/ late Saturday afternoon.

Nostalgia. It's a funny thing - that tender, sometimes overwhelming feeling for days gone by. The smallest moment can trigger it, and the most expected cause can leave you flat. From the window of her compact rental car, Joan Girardi stares at the house where she spent the first fifteen years of her life and waits to be overwhelmed. It doesn't come. There are a lot of good memories associated with this middle class home here in northern Chicago, but the house doesn't move her. Joan notes that there are few changes in the old place since the Girardis moved out nearly five years ago. The yard is a little messier than her Dad use to keep it, and the hedge beside the driveway could use some trimming, but not much different. A collection of toys, mostly girls stuff, is scattered about. Joan feels odd about some other little girl occupying her old room, perhaps taking ballet and piano lessons like she use to, dreaming of the day when she would be old enough to date boys and wondering what her wedding would be like…

Joan quickly drives on. She considered asking the current occupants to allow her a brief tour of the old homestead, but finds she really doesn't have the desire to look around. Next stop, the old high school. It is only a few blocks away, and on arrival Joan exits the car to get a closer look at Jefferson Staten High. This time Joan feels that surge of nostalgia. She only spent her freshman year here, but for the most part it was a good time. That year Joan had friends, lots of them and boys, lots of them too. Joan remembers those days well, but she cannot place herself back in those times in her mind. She has changed too much from the boy crazy, gossipy child who use to obsess about clothes, the mall, talking about various friends behind their backs and trying to decide between the several date offers she had for any weekend you cared to pick. That was her life, before…God.

Freshman year 2002 was the only time when all three of the Girardi kids attended the same school. Kevin was a senior, lettered in three different sports, and was the most popular guy in school. He and his girlfriend, Beth Rheinhardt, were Jefferson's power couple - the pinnacle of the elite social power structure that ran the school. Joan, as Kevin's sister and Beth's friend, was immediately sought out by various girl cliques, and she had her choice of which groups she would belong to. Luke, who annoyingly skipped a year to join Joan in starting at the same time, had a less successful begining at Jefferson Staten High (named after an obscure city councilman, and alternately referred to as 'Jefferson' or 'Staten'). Being a genius nerd, tall and skinny and the youngest student in school, he became the natural target of every bully. But once the word spread that he too was a Kevin Girardi sibling, the harassment eased to manageable levels.

Joan sighs. The year started so perfect, and everything was so great until November…and the accident. Kevin finished his senior year being home schooled by Mom and Aunt Theresa, and the two younger Girardis had to accept a lowered social standing. Not that they went all the way to the bottom – sympathy and remembrances of Kevin's enormous popularity prevented that. Still, they – especially Joan, had to take a social step down. In the long run that proved to be a better experience for Joan. She learned who her true friends were, and has never lost touch with them even after all of these years.

Joan returns to the rental car and drives on – one last stop before her final destination. At the edge of the school district, nearer to where the better houses begin, is the home of the Baker family. Andrew Sr., who could have easily afforded to live in a better neighborhood, chose to buy two lots in this middle class area, tore down the existing homes and erected a mini-mansion that was by far the largest, most expensive house in the vicinity. That was Andrew Baker Sr., a man who was only comfortable being a big fish in a small pond. He enjoyed drivng a much more expensive car than his neighbors, hosting elaborate parties that others could not match, and most of all, considering himself a respected man of influence. (He wasn't. Most of his neighbors despised the man for his smug habit of lording his higher status over them.) Only the Girardi family made a genuine effort to get along with the Bakers, and that was because since their freshman year, Andy Baker and Kevin were best friends.

Joan parks in front of the old Baker home and is surprised to see the Baker name is still on the mailbox. The Bakers hit hard times a few years back and were so desperate for cash, they sued the Girardis for Kevin not stopping Andy from driving the night of the crash – the same crash that put Kevin in a wheelchair. It was outrageous, all the more because it looked like they were going to succeed until Andy brought the whole ugly mess to a halt. Eventually hurt feelings were put aside, Andy was forgiven for his early part in the lawsuit, and he resumed his friendship with Kevin. For awhile they kept in touch, but Andy's lifepath of drifting about the country doing odd jobs made communication difficult. With Kevin now living in California, it has been over a year since Joan heard of Andy's whereabouts…

"Joan, is that really you?"

Joan looks up and smiles. Andy Baker himself. Joan leaves the car and rushes to give Andy a quick but affectionate hug.

"Wow, Andy, I didn't know you were living back here. How are you?"

"I'm good. I'm finally getting my life back on track. How about you, Joan? What brings you back to Chicago?"

"Spring break. I owed Aunt Theresa a visit, and…did you hear about me and my guy Jimmy?"

Andy nods, a sad look on his face. "Yeah, Kevin kept me updated in e-mails. I'm really sorry Joan. That was so rough – falling for a guy, getting engaged, only to lose him…"

Joan gulps hard before continuing. "Yeah, it was rough. Anyway, Jimmy's mother, Martha Danzig, lives in town and I owe her a courtesy visit."

"That doesn't sound easy either. When did you get in town?"

"Today. I rented a car and I was touring the neighborhood for old times' sake. I'm kind of surprised to see you here, considering how your parents kicked you out after you dropped the lawsuit."

Andy grimaces a little. "Yeah, that was like ninety-nine percent my Dad's doing. He was the one who originally pushed for the lawsuit, and he declared I had to go after I decided we had to end that madness. His parting words to me were: 'You have always been a disappointment'."

"Ouch. So how did you end up back home?"

"Mom invited me back. The whole lawsuit mess was the last straw for her and she divorced my Dad. The original plan was for me to help pack up her belongings and find a cheap place where the two of us could live. We were only a couple of weeks from being evicted by the bank since my parents went deeply in debt after Dad lost his share of the business."

Joan refrains from commenting on how Andrew Sr. 'lost' his share of the business. His old partner, Percy Burke, found out Andrew was swindling Baker & Burke (makers of shipping containers) and cheating on his taxes. Burke's 'generous' offer was to have Andrew walk away from their partnership with nothing or go to jail…

"Then how are you still here?"

"After the divorce, Dad disappeared on us. Then, at the last moment, he came through with a barrel full of cash. He paid off the mortgage, all of the debts, arranged to pay Mom alimony and is even paying my way through college. I'm studying education at U.I.C. I'm planning to become a teacher."

"That's great, but…where did all of that money come from?"

Andy shrugs. "Dad would never say. We hardly ever hear from him, and I don't even know where he lives or what business he is in."

Again, Joan holds her tongue. A man like Andrew Sr., becoming suddenly rich again, it had to be something illegal. From the look on Andy's face, she can tell he thinks the same thing too, but desperately hopes he is wrong.

"It was great seeing you again Andy, but I need to move along. Aunt Theresa is expecting me."

"Can't you come in for even a moment? I'm sure Mom would love to see you again."

"No."

A short response, but Andy catches the tone. "Joan, are you still bearing a grudge? I told you, it was my Dad…"

Joan sighs. "Look, Andy, we all still care about you, but your parents nearly ruined my family. Your mom may have been a passive partner in all of that, but she still participated. It's not like we were strangers. My parents were friends with your parents – probably the only real friends they ever had in this neighborhood. For them to turn around and sue us, when out of friendship we didn't sue you guys - even though we had every right to do so, that was outrageous. So no, I don't want to see your mother, not even for a moment."

Joan returns to her car, noting that Andy is fuming. She is sorry to have angered him, but sometimes you have to go with the blunt truth. Joan drives away.

It doesn't take long to reach Theresa Girardi's modest bungalow since she lives in the same neighborhood and is still a music teacher at the high school. (That was the one dark cloud at the start of Joan's freshman year, having an aunt who was a teacher at the school. At least Joan wasn't taking music that year.) Joan's knock at the door is quickly answered. Even before Joan can manage a 'Hello', she finds herself in a bear hug of affectionate greeting. Joan hugs back as she feels her aunt's genuine love…

"Oh Joan, it is so good to see you again."

"You too, Aunt Theresa." Joan says, noticing for the first time how much Theresa looks like a grownup version of her baby sister - the same large Girardi nose with slightly smaller but still prominent ears, and a chin that recedes only a bit, unlike with E.T.

"How do you manage to keep getting prettier every time I see you?" Theresa asks.

"I'd guess your memory is getting faulty." Joan says with a laugh. "You're looking good. Lose weight?"

"A few pounds." Theresa says as she helps Joan in with her bags. "How was your flight? I wish you had let me pick you up at the airport."

"Like I told you, I wanted to rent a car."

"You could have borrowed mine."

Joan recalls her aunt's enormous old Buick, a land yacht/rust bucket, and manages not to shudder. "I didn't want to inconvenience you."

"No inconvenience. But let's get you settled, and then I want you to fill me in on all that has been happening in Arcadia..."

Later, after dinner, Joan and Theresa sit in the living room...

"How is Helen?"

"Doing well. She just finished physical therapy and is already back painting. Mom was concerned that the wound she received might impair her skill, but it hasn't. Not one of her portrait clients cancelled on her."

"Wonderful. And how is Willie's campaign for mayor going?"

Joan smiles. Theresa Girardi, two years older than her brother, is the last person to still refer to Will Girardi by his boyhood name. "It's going okay, I guess..."

"But he won the primary easily."

"No one ran against him. In fact, all three candidates were unopposed in the primary."

"Three?"

"The Green Party is putting up a candidate, a local environmentalist named Norman Naylor. I met him once. He's a bit of a kook. Not that it matters. Green Party candidates usually don't get more than two percent of the vote. It's the other guy, Cyrus Cornwall, who's going to be Dad's biggest challenge. He's rich and apparently willing to spend a small fortune in order to become mayor." (Footnote.)

"But Willie is a town hero."

"Who is being outspent three to one. In a presidential election year, it's going to be hard to capture voter interest in local politics. I know I couldn't take my eye off of the Obama versus Clinton campaign, and was surprised when Hillary lost Maryland. At the start of the year I was sure Hillary Clinton was going to cruise to victory. I was looking forward to the first woman president."

"Well, get use to the phrase 'President Obama'." Theresa says with a smile, an obvious supporter of the hometown favorite.

"It's begining to look that way. I can't imagine the Republicans winning again after eight years of Bush."

"Enough about politics. I want to know about the family. Luke and Grace?"

"They're doing great - still very much in love, and Annie is so smart and beautiful..."

"And Kevin...is it true he and that...'girlfriend' of his are not getting married even though there is a baby on the way?"

"Yes, and don't frown so much, Aunt Theresa. Barbara has a lot of issues when it comes to marriage and babies, and this is probably the best choice for them - for now." Joan tactfully says. She will not mention Barbara's brief consideration of an abortion to her very Catholic aunt.

Theresa sniffs. "If you say so. And what about my other neice, Eleanor 'Theresa'?"

"Growing fast and it's begining to look like we are going to have another smart kid on her hands. You can tell E.T. is bright, even though she isn't very interactive."

"What does that mean?"

"She...'doesn't play well with others'. E.T. has minimal tolerance for traditional baby type games."

"If she is as smart as you say, maybe those games are too boring for her. Try challenging her more."

Joan smiles and nods, but she knows that isn't the problem. Normal social interaction, even at baby level, isn't possible for her sociopath sister. People to her are, and always will be, little more than objects.

Theresa continues, "And what about you, Joan? How is your life going? I saw you on that horrid game show."

"Yeah, that wasn't a particularly great experience, but there was one good thing that came out of it. I...met a man."

"Oh...?" Theresa asks with an automatic tone of disapproval.

"He lives here in Chicago."

"I see. So your visit has less to do with a visit to your aunt, or a condolence call on Martha than it does with this 'man'. What exactly are your plans?"

Joan blushes and blurts out a truth that is far blunter than she intended to admit. "I'm going to seduce him."

To Be Continued.

Footnote: The characters Norman Naylor and Cyrus Cornwall first appeared in my Scooby-Doo/JoA crossover, MERCER CREEK MYSTERY.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

3-23-08/Easter Sunday.

Joan looks at herself in the full length mirror and mouths, 'blech'. She has always hated Easter outfits, and that includes the one she is wearing today. Joan has on a conservative, full-sleeved dress in pastel green that is accented by a white lace collar with a belt, shoes, gloves and a beret – all in white. A perfect reminder of spring, despite the damp, 40 degree grey-skied weather. Joan takes one last look…

"Hello 1958." Joan snickers.

Joan leaves the guest room and goes to the kitchen where she sees Aunt Theresa very carefully pouring a cup of coffee. She too is in her Easter outfit – a yellow dress also trimmed in white (not a good look for her).

"Good morning Aunt Theresa."

Theresa sips her coffee and ignores Joan. The tension between them is thick – a lingering after effect from the words exchanged the previous night. What was she thinking, telling her very Catholic aunt that she was in town to seduce a man? Joan received a brief, stinging lecture that ended with: "I'll pray for you." Joan sighs as she wonders how mad her aunt is. She notices a second cup of coffee is on the table and along side of that, a chocolate pop-tart.

"You remembered."

Theresa suppresses a smile. "How could I forget? When you were a little girl and would stay the night, the only thing you ever wanted for breakfast was pop-tarts, chocolate being your favorite."

"Thanks. Aunt Theresa, about last night…"

"I think it best we drop the matter. I realize you're no longer a little girl, Joan. Your morals, or lack of them, are your concern."

"Aunt Theresa, please don't be like that. It hurts that you think so lowly of me. I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it."

Theresa looks directly at Joan. "Don't lie – especially on the Sabbath, especially on Easter. I saw your face Joan when you blurted out your admission. You were embarrassed you had been so blunt, but it was the truth. You came back to your hometown to...bed down with some man."

Joan groans. "Okay, that was…a partial truth. I was dwelling on what I thought of as the worst case scenario – me having to throw myself at the guy. I tend to dwell on worst case scenarios, and then to cover my nervousness, I sometimes blurt out a piece of bravado. The seduction scenario definitely isn't locked in. I still have to see how things go between the two of us. Besides Aunt Theresa, haven't you ever been so excited by a man you were willing to risk being foolish?"

"No."

Liar! Joan almost blurts it out. Jimmy Tubbs told her the story of how back in the early 80's Theresa Girardi and her BFF Martha Danzig attended an educational conference in Miami, and met two men they thought were fellow teachers. It turned out they were undercover vice cops who were trying to bust a drug ring that was flooding the Chicago schools with some of Miami's best white powder. As a part of their cover, the two cops romanced the two women from Chicago, and that led to them pairing off for a night of sexual bliss, which was rudely interrupted by a gun battle with the drug dealers. The two frightened women fled back to Chicago, swearing off men. A month later Martha found out she was pregnant, and Theresa morphed into the prude she is today.

Theresa continues, "The point is Joan, no matter how you try to sugar coat it, you're here for a…what do they call it?"

"Bootie call."

Theresa sniffs at that phrase. "Yes, and I've already expressed my views on that. Now finish your breakfast. We don't want to be late for church."

X X X X X

St. Wendel's is the small Catholic church that serves the neighborhood. It hasn't changed a bit since Joan was last here about a half dozen years ago. (It is one of those stubbornly stuck in the past type of church that reluctantly accepted it had to switch from Latin masses to English.) Joan's familiarity with St. Wendel's is due solely to Aunt Theresa. Her rule was that when her young niece visited overnight on Saturdays, she had to go to church on Sunday, and Theresa didn't care what her agnostic brother had to say about that. 'Willie', always a little intimidated by his big sister, never made a fuss.

The old church with its' creaky floors and even creakier pews doesn't stir any fond memories for Joan, but she has to restrain from shouting with joy when she sees two of her old friends from high school - Emma Martinez (formerly Clarke) and Maggie Jones (formerly Pulaski). There isn't time before the start of services for a reunion, but enthusiastic smiles and waves are exchanged.

The morning services, conducted by the old (really old) Father Beadle, have a comforting familiarity. The sermon (no doubt taken from a standard book of sermons) is a basic review of the standard Reseurrection message. Joan would swear that it is word-for-word the same Easter message she heard here six years ago. Joan follows along, kneeling when others kneel, repeating the responses others make and dutifully taking communion. To Joan there is very little of God in all of this, but she knows the congregation finds a soul-soothing comfort here. (This is a group that doesn't like a lot of surprises in their religion.) As soon as the services end, Joan eagerly rushes to greet her old friends...

X X X X X

"Have you found her yet?"

Joan, idly picking at her food, is slow to respond. It isn't the noise of the mall's food court that has her distracted...

"Found who, Aunt Theresa?"

"Your younger self. You've certainly been looking hard for her."

"What do you mean?"

"When you met your friends after church, they were so glad to see you. They enjoyed showing off their husbands and their babies and talking about their jobs, but you kept trying to turn the conversation back around to your old high school days."

"Maybe I was jealous. While they have been getting on with their lives, I'm still just a student living at home with my parents."

"Joan, they weren't showing off, they were sharing. And they were greatly interested in your life now."

"Yeah, I saw how interested they were when I mentioned Jimmy."

Theresa nods. "It was an awkward moment, but what did you expect? You've kept in touch with these girls for years, but you hid the most painful chapter of your life. Why?"

Joan sighs. "There was a point when I got so tired of all of the sympathy and the ever so helpful: 'Are you getting on with your life', that I couldn't take it any more. I just wanted to be able to communicate with someone without all of that crap."

Theresa restrains herself from correcting Joan's language. "I can understand that. They are the people from young Joan's carefree days, and you wanted to keep the relationship at the level. Sort of like why you wanted to have lunch at this mall instead of the nice restaurant I had reservations at. I remember how you use to spend every free moment you could here with your friends. Has this trip helped you to reconnect?"

Joan hesitates a long time before answering. "I look at this place and try to remember why it was so important to me. On the flight out I was so eager to see the old neighborhood, my friends and our old haunts... I guess I did think I would be connecting with my past self."

"There's the old saying: 'You can't go home again'."

"Not when other people are living there. Not when your old self has...died."

"A perfect metaphor for today: death and reseurrection. The old self dies so the new, better self can be born."

Joan smiles. "Why Aunt Theresa, are you saying you weren't fond of the freshman version of me?"

Theresa smiles back. "I loved you, but you were a silly, distracted 'C' student who never took life seriously. The future you were headed for didn't look like a bright one. Of course all of that changed after Kevin's accident."

"How so?"

"For the first time you realized life could hurt you. The concept of consequences finally sank in and that's when you started to grow up. For awhile you stopped talking back, kept your room clean and even went to church all on your own. Of course it didn't last, but it was your first effort at maturity, and that eventually led to the beautiful, accomplished young woman I see before me."

"With the morals of a slut."

Theresa blushes. "I'm sorry I was so harsh, Joan. My ways must seem so old-fashioned to you. But, I do remember what it was like to be young and hormonal, even if I didn't get a lot of opportunities to act that way due to my rather plain looks. Still, I know how quickly you can develop an overwhelming attraction to a man. But, I also have life experiences that tell me that way is a mistake. Morals aside, and despite what romantic comedies tell us, people don't really fall in love at first sight. That kind of 'love' is a shack built on a pile of shifting sand. True love is a mansion built on a bedrock of commitment, time and effort. That's the kind that lasts. You need only look to your parents to see that."

Joan listens to her aunt's words...

X X X X X

Joan parks in front of Theresa's house, as silent as she has been for most of the afternoon. Her aunt's words have sunk in and for the first time Joan is wondering what the hell is she doing in Chicago? It is crazy for her to have travelled halfway across the country to try to hook up with a guy she barely knows... Tyler Christan, whom she met while on an assignment for Homeland Security, is unlike any man Joan has met before. CEO of his own successful company, Tyler is a confident, handsome, sophisticated man who has dominated Joan's thoughts ever since she met him five weeks ago. They shared a mutually intense, immediate attraction, but had to part after knowing each other for only a few hours. Now, Joan has followed Tyler back to their mutual hometown expecting...what? Hot sex and instant romance? Maybe...more? Joan shakes her head. For all she knows, Tyler might be a billionaire playboy who seduces a different impressionable young woman every week...

"We have company."

Joan exits the car and stares at a blonde young man waiting on the front steps. It has been nearly seven years since she last saw him, but Joan has no trouble recognizing this visitor. He stands and extends his hand to an approaching Theresa...

"Hello, Miss Girardi. I don't know if you remember me?"

Coldly, Theresa responds, "Steve Dawes. Yes, I remember how you spent a year sniffing around my niece like a dog in heat. I won't invite you in because I also remember how you treated Joan."

Theresa walks by Steve and heads for the front door, but pauses before entering. From behind Steve's back Theresa points and mouths: 'Him'? Joan firmly shakes her head 'NO'. Theresa goes inside as Steve gives Joan a cautious smile... Joan remains grim as she looks him over. Steve Dawes - her first boyfriend, and her first heartbreak.

"Hello Joan. I guess I wouldn't blame you if you slapped my face."

In response, Joan throws an astonishingly fast punch...that stops an inch short of Steve's nose.

"Made you flinch."

Steve gulps. "Wow. That was...wow. Thank you for not breaking my nose."

"If I wanted to physically punish you, then you'd be writhing on the ground craddling your junk. What do you want, Steve?"

"To apologize. The news has been spreading that you are back in town, and as soon as I heard I rushed over. I'm glad I finally have this chance to say I'm sorry."

Joan sits on the front steps and stares up at Steve. She always imagined that if they ever met again, he would be ugly - they way all rotten bastards should be. But, Steve was the best looking guy in eighth grade and time has only improved his looks...

"You had plenty of opportunities to apoplogize. I was fourteen when you hurt me, and I didn't leave Chicago until I was fifteen."

Steve gives an apologetic shrug. "I first had a lot of growing up to do."

Joan sighs, feeling the pain from almost seven years ago returning. All through eighth grade she and Steve were a couple. First crush, first date, first kiss - all of those belong to Steve Dawes, as well as first heartbreak.

"Why did you do it, Steve? I've always wondered. If all you wanted was to break up with me, then you should have just said so. Why did you have to hurt me like that?"

Steve sees tears glistening in Joan's eyes, and he has to struggle not to respond the same way. "I'm sorry. I'm really, really so very sorry."

"That's not an explanation. I want to know why you felt the need to publicly humiliate me."

Steve stares at the ground, blushing. "I don't know why I was so...weak. I look back on the 14 year old version of myself and he's someone I don't understand. I started out so much in love with you, I thought we would be a couple forever. Then, as the school year was coming to a close, I realized that due to where we lived, we would be going to different high schools. It suddenly dawned on me that we wouldn't survive being a couple while in different schools. By then there was this other girl, Arlene, who was flirting with me and who was headed for the same high school as me. When I began...secretly dating Arlene, I rationalized I was just looking ahead at the inevitable."

"So you cheated on me because you decided we were predestined to fail? Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. Was this around the time of our last month in eighth grade?" (Steve nods.) "I thought so. That was when you made your big push to finally get to second base. How many times did I hear you plead: 'If you love me, you'll let me touch them'. And to think, I use to feel guilty about keeping you at a distance."

Steve winces, hearing the pain in Joan's voice. "When you finally let me touch...when you said you were doing this because you loved me, I was grateful but I felt so guilty knowing I was going to dump you."

"But that didn't stop you from fondling to your heart's content, and saying how much you loved me for letting you do that!" Joan says, even as she remembers she actually enjoyed the experience. "Even if you had dumped me right after that, it wouldn't have hurt as much as what happened next. The next day you bragged to every guy in school, and described in great detail...it was so humiliating!" Joan chokes off, crying.

Steve sits beside Joan, feeling miserable. "I didn't want to do it, but...Arlene insisted. It was the price she put on letting me do a lot more than get to second base. A lot more."

Joan wipes away her tears. "Arlene? She's the one who wanted to publicly humiliate me? But why? I don't even remember her."

"You wouldn't. She was one of those kids who went unnoticed, on the sidelines of school...and life. Arlene blamed the popular girls for not including her in anything. In her warped mind she saw it as a conspiracy against her rather than being ignored because no one knew her. She hated you because you were the most popular girl in school."

Joan shakes her head in disbelief. "So one of the most miserable times of my life is due to a crazy girl I don't even remember because she had a grudge against the popular girls. And you, Steven Francis Dawes, must be the biggest jerk of all times to have gone along with her scheme. How could I have been so wrong about you? I knew you were a horndog, like all teenaged boys, but I thought there was a decent guy under all of that."

Steve wipes a few tears from his eyes and sighs heavily. "If it's any consolation to you, I've hated myself for years for what I did to you."

"You should. And what about 'Arlene'?"

"I knew what I did for Arlene was horrible, but I had just turned 14 and I had a chance to be the first guy in our class to have sex. By the way, it was a miserable experience. I...almost didn't go through with it. It was so creepy the way Arlene kept laughing about how she had hurt you."

"But you did go through with it."

"Well...she was naked."

Joan snickers. "Guys! You never can get beyond small head thinking."

"Oh, over time we eventually learn our lessons. After a few months, when my hormones began to settle down, I realized just how big of a lunatic Arlene was. I broke up with her, and that...didn't go so well. She devoted herself to making me miserable, and threatened that if I ever told you the truth, she would kill us both."

"Wow, you sure can pick'em. And are we in danger?"

"No. Arlene got progressively worse in high school, and I wasn't the only one she was harassing. She became increasingly violent and was finally expelled from school. Eventually, she was institutionalized."

"Sounds like she got what she deserved. That leaves you, Steve. What should your punishment be?"

"But...I apologized."

"And it was a good one: the trembling in the voice, the tears - all very moving. But you hurt me, and in all fairness, you should get a little pain back."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Stand."

Steve and Joan both stand and face each other.

"Spread your legs."

Steve gulps. "Are you kidding?"

"I was thinking, that idea about you writhing on the ground, craddling your junk, has a certain poetic justice."

"You really expect me...?"

"Didn't you come here to square things between us? You-owe-me!"

Steve groans in dismay, spreads his legs wide and braces himself. "I...owe you."

Joan steps closer, pulls back her leg and kicks hard...again stopping an inch from her target.

"Made you flinch." Joan says with a grin.

Steve breathes an enormous sigh of relief. "You've gotten a little crazy over the years."

"You're not the first to say that."

"So...are we good?"

"Pretty close to it. Go, and sin no more."

Joan and Steve exchange nods and he begins to walk away. He pauses...

"Thank you, Joan. This was a burden on my soul for much too long."

Steve Dawes walks away and Joan watches until he goes around the corner. She looks up at the sky...

"Okay, where are you?"

A voice responds... "Over here, Joan."

Joan looks to the sidewalk and recognizes Power-walker God, the one who instructed her to smash Adam's sculpture all those years ago.

Joan says, "Okay, what's the deal? As soon as I saw Steve I recognized 'the glow'. First Dylan, then Bonnie and now Steve - all instruments of God. Are you messing with my mind? Three people hurt me and you reward them by making them your servants. Why?"

"Don't take it personally, Joan. They are all connections, following their most likely destinies which were determined long before you met them. You...are a sort of nexus for a wide variety of connections. For instance, Steve has completed boot camp and is about to be offered advanced training. By ending that troublesome burden on his soul, you have freed him to rise higher. Joan, all of humanity bears varying degrees of burdens on their souls. It is a wonderful thing to be able to shed those burdens."

"Is that a hint of an assignment?"

"As I once said, I'm all about hints. Enjoy your stay in Chicago, Joan."

As Power-walker God continues her way down the sidewalk, Joan feels in her own soul a lifting of the burden she has carried for seven years - her grudge against Steve. She also realizes that despite her 'vacation', she is not off duty.

To Be Continued.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

3-23-08/Sunday evening.

The Danzig house is just over a mile away, in the next school district (toward the poorer neighborhoods). Martha Danzig is an English teacher who lives within walking distance of her school – the same high school Jimmy attended. It amazes Joan that she and Jimmy grew up so close to each other but never met. Who knows, they may have passed each other on the street dozens of times and never noticed.

As Joan walks toward the front door she feels Jimmy's presence with her. That presence is always there to some degree – his heavenly spirit pouring out his love and encouragement to her, urging Joan to be happy. Here at Jimmy's childhood home, Joan is acutely aware of her lost love's comforting spirit. The door opens before Joan can knock, and there is Martha Danzig – a petite woman in her mid fifties with salt & pepper hair and a still slender figure. It is the first time Joan has seen Martha since she was a little girl.

"Hello Joan."

"Hello Martha."

They hug and the crying begins.

Later…

The evening seems to go by quickly as Martha guides Joan through the memorabilia of Jimmy's early years. There are a lot of photo albums to go through, which include a couple of pictures of Theresa with Martha and Jimmy. It seems Theresa's judgmental nature never included Martha and her fatherless son. There is a tour of Jimmy's room, left virtually untouched after Jimmy joined the army right after high school. Plenty of sports trophies fill the room, all in the name of James Danzig (Jimmy didn't change his name to Tubbs until he was 18 and accepted formal adoption by his newly discovered father).

There are still a few items of Jimmy's clothes hanging in the closet, but most were given away to charity. There is very little in the way of music as Jimmy wasn't musically inclined, but there are numerous cardboard boxes filled with his teen years library: mostly mysteries, sci-fi and old comic books. Joan digs deep into one of the boxes filled with comics and finds on the bottom that expected rite of passage for all teenaged guys – a small collection of Playboys.

The tour over, they return to the living room for coffee and cake. The cathartic crying and sharing has left both women with a feeling of peace…

"I'm glad we had this time to get together, Joan. It has been helpful to share these memories with someone else who loved Jimmy. For this brief time, it almost seems like he is with us."

Joan nods. "I feel that too."

"I now understand why Jimmy fell in love with you, and why it was such an accelerated process. There almost seems to be…an aura of light and love about you, Joan."

"Flattery?" Joan asks as she realizes Martha has a rather empathic nature.

"Maybe a little, but mostly the truth. I hope we can always speak the truth, Joan. For instance, Theresa tells me you have a…new relationship on the horizon?"

Joan blushes. "Aunt Theresa probably wants you to talk me out of my immoral ways. Too late, she has pretty much convinced me I've made a mistake. Besides, she had no right to speak of this – especially to you."

"Because of Jimmy?"

"It's been less than a year."

"Joan, I know my son. He wouldn't want you to keep mourning or to deny your happiness. Is this man here in Chicago your first step back into…dating?"

Joan hesitates, taking a read on Martha. She detects only a non-judgmental desire to help. Joan feels an overwhelming need to share and begins an edited version of her recent history…

"After Jimmy died, I wasn't sure I wanted to go on. With the help of family and friends, I slowly began inching my way back, although it was a numb sort of life. As the months went by, I became lonely."

"Hormonally lonely?"

Joan nods, blushing again. "New Year's Eve I had my first date, and he was a really nice guy, but the date was a disaster. After that, I tried a couple of college parties, but I couldn't get anyone interested in me."

"A pretty girl like you? I find that hard to believe…unless, you were putting off a certain vibe?"

"Vibe?" Joan asks, aware that as an instrument of God people often get a weird vibe from her.

"Perhaps a lingering trace of mourning? You might not have realized you were putting out such a vibe. So…there hasn't been anyone?"

"Well, yes. Did you see me on Rapid Dough?"

"I watched it with Theresa. To think, I use to like that show. I never considered how mean the show was to the contestants. But I do remember that very handsome young man who said he was in love with you. A former high school sweetheart?"

Staring at the floor, Joan whispers: "Dylan Hunter."

"Joan?"

"I slept with him."

"Oh. Then he's the man you've come to meet?"

"No. I realized almost immediately I had made a huge mistake being with Dylan."

"Why, don't you love him?"

Joan tries to organize her thoughts and feelings into some sort of order that makes sense. "It's complicated. I've loved Dylan for years, but…there are degrees of love. When I think of Dylan, and after I get beyond all of the hormonal reactions that stirs, I have a guy who loves me intensely, a guy I like and admire, a guy I love in an 'ex-boyfriend – still very, very close' way. I know I love him too much to hurt him again."

"Again?"

"Last year Dylan proposed and I had to turn him down."

"When was this?"

"Less than a month before I became engaged to Jimmy."

"I see. That must have hurt this Dylan very much."

"It did, but I was too wrapped up in my own pain to think of that. When we reunited in New York last month, all of our old attraction was there and I was so…'hormonally lonely', I foolishly slept with Dylan."

"I'm not sure I understand why it was foolish. You say you love Dylan, and he loves you, so why aren't you exploring a relationship with him?"

"Because with Dylan there is an inescapable lockstep path of girlfriend-fiancee-wife. I took one step on that path and I clearly saw Dylan's expectations. If I take one more step, I won't be able to leave that path without crushing Dylan."

"And you're certain that path is the wrong one for you?"

"Right now, I'm not certain of anything, including why I'm not with Dylan. Someone recently pointed out to me that I'm still carrying a grudge over our high school break-up."

"Is that true?"

"Maybe…leaning toward probably. It beats the excuses I've come up with over the years. That Dylan was my rebound guy from another relationship. That the way he loves me more than I love him would eventually ruin us. That we have nothing in common – well, that was way off."

"Pardon?"

"Oh…a sidebar not worth mentioning." Joan says, smiling over the knowledge that Dylan is also an instrument of God. They have been texting in spiritual code for weeks about their experiences with God.

"So this grudge is the root problem?"

"I know it sounds petty, especially since I told Dylan I forgave him, but he really hurt me when he dumped me back then. Do you know about Ryan Hunter?"

"Theresa kept me updated on the whole amazing story."

"Dylan was Ryan's nephew and he managed to gain a lot of influence over Dylan. Ryan engineered a break up between the two of us, and then convinced Dylan I was mentally disturbed…"

"Because you talked to God when you had Lyme disease?"

"Er…yes." Joan acknowledges. (Her 'brief' time of God delusions is a matter of public record.) "Anyway, Dylan refused to believe my accusations against Ryan because he thought I was sick. In an act of 'tough love', he refused to consider getting back together until I agreed to seek help and to end my war with Ryan. That was a painful time for both of us, and Ryan chose that moment to persuade Dylan he had to get on with his life by 'banging another girl'. A girl that turned out to be one of my friends."

"Okay…I see how that would be a hard thing to let go of, even though it sounds like this 'Ryan' was the cause of your problems. Joan, I can only encourage you to let go of your grudge. I know from experience it isn't worth it. I held a grudge against Jimmy's father that was so intense, I kept father and son from knowing about each other for 18 years. Now, looking back, it's one of the greatest regrets of my life."

"Jimmy told me how he tracked down his dad after he turned 18."

"And it was a good thing for both of them. Even though they knew each other for only a few years, they developed a very special bond. It is only since Jimmy's death that I've been able to acknowledge that and let the past go."

Joan gulps as she considers, would it take Dylan's death to let go of this old grudge? "So you're saying I should stick with Dylan?"

"I can't say. You haven't talked about this other man and how you feel about him."

"All I can say is that I haven't been able to stop thinking about him since we met. I am sure that if I don't at least try to connect with him, it will haunt me forever."

Martha nods. "It's those paths not taken that cause us the greatest doubts and regrets. Do you mind if I ask who is this special man?"

"Tyler Christian."

Martha gasps, "The billionaire?"

(Later…)

Joan enters her aunt's home and immediately detects a change in the atmosphere. Theresa's disapproval of her niece's behavior has almost disappeared. Theresa greets Joan with a wide smile...

"Why didn't you tell me the man you came to meet was Tyler Christian?"

"I guess Martha called you. I didn't see what difference it made. You know who Tyler is?"

"Of course. Not only is he one of the richest men in town, he funds numerous scholarships and donates generously to many local schools. Joan, how did you come to know a billionaire?"

Joan only hesitates a moment. After all of this time working for God and Homeland Security, she has become a skilled liar. "When I was on Rapid Dough, the show arranged a quick trip to Atlantic City as an experiment in their contestant interaction segement. It turned out to be a failure since it was college week and most of us were too young to gamble at the casino. I bumped into Tyler there and we sort of hit it off."

"That was five weeks ago. Have you spoken to him since then?"

"No. I just thought I might look him up since I was coming to Chicago anyway. But thank you Aunt Theresa for talking me out of that mistake. What was I thinking, travelling halfway across to the country to try to hook up with a man twelve years older than me - one that I barely know."

"Well...wait Joan, maybe I was too hasty in discouraging you. As for Mr. Christian's age, it's very common for young women to become intrigued with an older, experienced man of the world. I remember in college about half of the co-eds had these enormous crushes on some of the younger, handsomer professors. And as I remember from his newspaper photos, Tyler Christian is a very handsome man."

"Are you now saying my original plan to seduce him is okay?"

"Nooo...but perhaps a less bold approach might be acceptable. If you call him do you think he will remember you?"

Joan smiles. "It's possible. When I got back from New York there was a bouquet of roses waiting for me. Every day since then he has sent me another bouquet of flowers...with a poem."

"But you haven't spoken to him?"

"At first I was waiting for him to call me. Then I started wondering if maybe he told his secretary to start sending me flowers with a poem and simply forgot to cancel the order."

"That's absurd. Clearly the man is smitten with you."

"Well, I don't know about 'smitten'. How interested can he be if he never called?"

"He made the first move with the flowers and was waiting for you to respond. You...are going to respond?"

Joan shrugs. "His corporate headquarters are in the Hancock Tower. Tomorrow I plan to take the tour of the observation deck and I might just happen to remember that he works there. That way if it turns out I am actually in an accidental relationship with his secretary, I won't have so much egg on my face."

"Joan, I'm sure Mr. Christian will be delighted to see you."

"I guess I'll find out tomorrow. I'm going to turn in now since I plan to be up early to jog. Goodnight Aunt Theresa."

"Goodnight, Joan."

Joan goes to the guest room door, but just before entering she pauses... "Just to be clear. It's sinful of me to come to this city to seduce a man I barely know - unless he turns out to be a billionaire?"

"I...I never said that."

Joan grins. "Goodnight..."

X X X X X

3-24-08/Monday.

After starting her day with a long jog and some meditation time, Joan took the 'El' into the downtown Chicago area. That way she was able to experience a little nostalgia about her younger days when she regularly rode the city's elevated trains, and she avoided the parking hassles in the business district. The impressive John Hancock Center, 100 stories tall, has a famous observation deck that Joan has never experienced - despite being a native Chicagoan. After paying her ticket price, Joan joins the long line of mostly tourists. It takes nearly an hour before she can get on the express elevator with its' 40 second zoom up to the observation deck over a thousand feet in the air. After pausing a moment to let her stomach settle, Joan steps out of the elvator and is immediately awed by the view.

All of Chicago is visible, along with much of Illinois, Wisconsin, Indiana and all the way across the lake, Michigan some 80 miles away. Despite this being just an excuse to be at the Hancock building, Joan lingers enjoying the spectacular views. Telescopes help Joan pick out a lot of details, including clear views of her old neighborhood, and the many tall buildings of the downtown area, including the somewhat taller Sears Tower. There is even a small section of the observation deck, heavily screened, where you can experience the full force of the breezes that blow at a thousand feet up. No doubt it is an exciting rush in warmer weather, but in March it is something you quickly endure just for the experience.

Reluctantly, and feeling very nervous, Joan returns to the ground floor and takes one of the regular business elevators to the corporate headquarters of TC TECH, Inc. Tyler's business occupies most of one of the floors halfway up the business section, and there is a bustle of activity as Joan enters. Why didn't she call ahead? Oh yeah, her 'cover story' to reduce her embarassment in case Tyler has forgotten about her, or isn't as interested as he seemed. Joan approaches the front desk where a couple of busy receptionists are fielding calls...

"Yes Miss, may I help you?" asks a lovely young woman no older than Joan herself.

"My name is Joan Girardi, and I wanted to speak with Tyler Christian."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Uh, no. I was taking the tour of the observation deck and I thought I would just pop in to see if Tyler...Mr. Christian had a moment to spare."

The receptionists briefly consults a list of names on a clipboard and smiles.

"Yes Miss Girardi, if you will follow me?"

Joan is led pass a maze of cubicles and conference rooms toward a corner of the building where no doubt Tyler has the largest office with the best view. Despite the fast pace of activity around her, Joan becomes aware that people are checking text mesages and getting a high number of hasty phone calls that seem to follow her every step she takes. Everywhere, people pause to stare and assess...

"Mrs. Packwood, this is Joan Girardi, who is hoping for some of Mr. Christian's unscheduled time." the receptionist says before walking away.

The name plate on the desk reads: Delana Packwood, Executive Assistant. On the large door behind her is the name Tyler Christian (no title needed).

"Miss Girardi, how wonderful it is to put a face to the name. I've been sending flowers to your home in Arcadia for weeks, and I had begun to give up hope that I would ever hear from you."

Joan manages not to groan. Her worse fear is true - Tyler began sending her flowers and simply forgot to tell this woman to stop at some point. Mrs. Packwood picks up the phone and makes a brief call...

"Mr. Christian...'she' is here." (Smiles.) "Yes sir, I'll send her right in." (Turns to Joan.) "Please go in, Miss Girardi."

Joan takes a deeep breath and goes to the door. Has she made a mistake? Will that amazing connection she felt the first time she met Tyler still be there? Joan enters. The office is large and has a great view. It is expensively furnished and designed to impress visitors, but Joan barely notices. Tyler Christian, medium height with a slender, wiry body, sandy brown hair and green eyes, is standing before his desk waiting for her. Joan feels her breath go short as she immediately experiences that same attraction she felt weeks ago in Atlantic City. Joan opens her mouth to begin her cover story of she just happened to be in the building, but she has no time to say a word.

Tyler quickly crosses the space between them, takes Joan in his arms and begins a passionate kiss...

To Be Continued.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

3-24-08/Monday.

On the 95th floor of the Hancock building there is a renown restaurant that offers a superb midday buffet, but Tyler and Joan barely notice the quality of the food as their senses are solely focused on each other…

"I was beginning to give up hope. Why didn't you call?" Tyler asks.

"Why didn't you?" Joan counters.

"I had already put myself out on a fragile emotional limb by sending you flowers and a poem each day. I was beginning to wonder if you weren't laughing at the old man who was romancing someone so young."

"You're not that old!" Joan protests. "Besides, my life got a little complicated after we met."

"Dylan Hunter?"

"How…how do you know about him?"

"I watched the show. Anyone could see the poor boy is desperately in love with you."

"Dylan…is a fond memory from my past. A friend I treasure, but no more."

"Are you sure? I'd hate to think that you've turned to me as a refuge from some romantic maelstrom. As overwhelmingly attracted to you as I am, I do have my pride, Joan."

"Tyler, I'm here because I want to be with you. I want to know you better, and to explore this…connection I feel for you."

Tyler smiles. "I feel it too – that amazing sense of the two of us clicking together like we were made for each other. I've never experienced anything so intense and so quickly. It was there when we first met in Atlantic City, and our time apart hasn't weakened it."

"We have less than a week before I have to return to Arcadia. In that time, I want to know everything about you. That is, if your schedule isn't too busy?"

"I can cancel or postpone everything except for today's schedule. I have a teleconference meeting with my factory managers in four countries in less than an hour that will take up most of the afternoon."

"I guess I should have called ahead. What about tonight?"

"I…have a date."

"Oh. Of course, how stupid of me. I should have realized a man like you has dozens of women lined up…"

"Hardly dozens, and I would be willing to cancel tonight's date, but there isn't time for Cissy to find someone else."

"You have a girlfriend named 'Cissy'?"

"She's not my girlfriend. Cissy is an old friend from college that I've never dated before. Cissy's sister…Ceilia, recently married a man named Cecil…"

"Hold it. Is this a joke?"

Tyler grins. "Okay, I'm changing the names to make it sound silly, which it is. Cissy's kid sister married some doctor and they're off on an extended honeymoon. They are making a one night stopover in Chicago so Cissy can meet her new brother-in-law and get it rubbed in her nose that her younger sister has married well while Cissy remains unmarried."

"Okay, I get it. Cissy counters by showing up with one of the country's most eligible bachelors – a billionaire who makes the doctor look like small potatoes."

"So you can see why I can't get out of this?"

Joan smiles. "Yes, it's a noble quest to save a damsel in distress. Go, make the snotty bride green with envy, make a big public display of having the hots for Cissy, BUT…"

"Not an inch further, I promise."

"Good. And I see the time is getting late, so I guess I better get you back to your office."

(Tyler checks his watch.) "We might have time to swing by my place so I can show you where I live."

"I'd love to see it, but are you sure about the time?"

"Well, it is a pretty far commute, but I think we can make it."

Joan and Tyler take the elevator down to the 44th floor and find themselves in a large lobby with a concierge service, and other facilities such as a gym with a large pool, a grocery and a bank of private elevators that service the over 700 condos above them. They travel to the 50th floor and enter a luxurious three bedroom condominium that has a spectacular view of the lake…

"Wow, you live in the same building where you work?" Joan asks as Tyler gives her a quick tour.

"It beats trying to deal with rush hour traffic. From here, on the Fourth of July, you can watch the fireworks display at eye level."

"This is amazing, but…I have to admit I'm a little surprised. Considering how rich you are, I was expecting a huge mansion and a yacht."

Tyler smiles. "I'm just a simple boy who made good and doesn't feel the need to show off…except I do have a yacht I use on the lake in warmer weather, and...I have a private island in the Caribbean."

"Oh, just a 'simple boy'? Is it a very private island, say where a couple could sunbathe in the nude?"

Tyler smiles. "Definitely. But in the mean time, we will have to settle for my humble abode here."

"Considering all that's available in the Hancock, including three floors of retail stores – which I just happen to notice, you hardly ever have to leave the building."

"During the worse of our Chicago winters, if I'm not vacationing on my island, I do tend to hibernate in the Hancock."

Joan ponders a moment. "You know, maybe that's a long term solution to the country's energy problems. Imagine if most people could live, shop and work in the same building. Think of how many fewer cars we would need and the lower pollution."

"It might be a little hard to coordinate, having your home and workplace linked together. If your company became very successful, it might have to move to larger facilities and you're stuck trying to sell a condo where there's now a lot of empty space. Or you might be in a company that down-sizes and you need to look for a job in another building where there might not be any open spaces."

"Okay, I see your point. Then there are couples who would work for different firms in different buildings, and so on. Darn, here I was envisioning a utopian future where people lived in skyscrapers surrounded by green space and which were powered by solar and wind. We could kiss foreign oil goodbye."

"Sounds nice, but it would never work. Utopian societies always fail because the founders never consider the flaw in every plan – the human factor. Most people tend to be lazy, greedy and mean. They rebel against a regimented lifestyle that requires them to be industrious, self-sacrificing and considerate. That causes the 'true believers' in that utopian society - who are equally lazy, greedy and mean, to begin harshly regulating behavior, which always leads to rebellion. Remember 'Animal Farm'?"

"Wow, you're a cynic."

"I like to think of it as the practicality that comes with maturity. You on the other hand have the naïve optimism of youth."

Joan smiles. "Establishmentist."

Tyler smiles back. "Revolutionary."

They fall into a long kiss, hands roaming and breathing coming in gasps. Joan loosens Tyler's tie…

"Joan, we don't have time."

"We can be quick." Joan gasps as her hands drift down to Tyler's belt. He gently brushes her hands away.

"Another advantage of age. I know that 'quickies' don't compare to taking your time and getting the job done right. Tomorrow, I promise, the whole day is yours to go wherever you want or do whatever you want."

Joan sighs. "I promised my aunt we would go put flowers on various relative's graves – a long, 'fun' day in the cemetery."

"I would love to meet your aunt, if I wouldn't be intruding? We could travel in my limo."

"Is it long and impressive?"

"I like to think so…oh wait, you're talking about the car."

Joan giggles. "Speaking of that, and your opposition to quickies, that night we spent in your hotel suite in Atlantic City…why didn't we sleep together?"

"Because I'm old-fashioned. If you really like a girl, you don't try to drag her into your bed on the first date."

"That's sweet, I guess, but trust me, you wouldn't have had to do any 'dragging'. Is that the only reason?"

"Well…when you took my place in the poker game and won all of that money, I promised you a five percent commission…"

"I remember. It's not every night I win 300,000 dollars."

"I didn't want you to think that I was expecting some sort of…reciprocation."

Joan snorts with laughter. "Never occurred to me. I won that money fair and square and fully earned my commission. But flattering on how high a price you would put on my 'services'."

Tyler blushes deeply and Joan realizes he was serious about being 'old-fashioned'.

Joan continues, "Come on, let's get you back to your office before you swoon. I'll text you later on the details about tomorrow."

X X X X X

3-25-08/Tuesday

"Miss Griardi, I truly admire those who dedicate their lives to teaching, especially a subject that is such an enhancement to our society like music."

Theresa Girardi, seated between Tyler and Joan in the back of the limo, resonds... "Thank you. I've enjoyed teaching music for over thirty years, and I'm proud to say some of my more gifted students have gone on to professional music careers, Mr. Christian."

"Please call me Tyler. Was Joan one of your 'gifted' students?"

Theresa chuckles. "Hardly. I tried for over a year to tutor Joan in piano, but she barely mastered the basics. Her father and I hoped she would grow to love piano, but she remained obstinately determined not to give it a chance."

Joan protests, "Hey, don't talk about me like I'm not here, and I wasn't 'obstinate'. I just realized playing an instrument wasn't my thing, and it was really the wrong time in life for me to try. In high school I took a few private lessons and improved...a little. To this day I can rock out 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star' and 'Itsy Bitsy Spider'.

Before the others can respond, the chauffeur calls out, "We have reached our first destination, sir."

"Thank you, Ross. Pull over and get the first wreath."

The three passengers exit the car while 'Ross' gets a beautiful floral tribute from the trunk. As they walk toward a nearby grave, Tyler inquires...

"Remind me who we are visiting?"

Joan replies, "My grandmother, Eleanor. She died ten years ago."

"Do you remember her well?"

"I remember she was a great cook, and that's why my Dad and Aunt are also great at Italian cooking. Grandma Eleanor also spoke with an Italian accent so thick, you could cut it with a knife."

"It wasn't that bad." Theresa remarks before becoming silent as they reach the grave. The trio pauses in quiet reflection as Ross arrives, places the wreath on the headstone and discreetly returns to the limo.

After a couple of minutes Tyler quietly asks, "Eleanor...'Monroe'?"

Theresa responds, "Mama took back her maiden name after...the divorce."

"But 'Monroe' - I thought she was Italian?"

Joan asks, "Do you want to reveal our scandalous family history or should I, Aunt Theresa?"

"It isn't scandalous."

Joan chuckles. "The story includes an arrest of your grandfather by Eliot Ness."

Tyler says, "Oh, I've got to hear this."

Theresa sighs and begins, "My grandmother, Maria, arrived in Chicago in the 20's when she was still a teenaged girl. The family was dirt poor and naturally settled in the Little Italy section of town. Maria was considered quite a beauty and she soon attracted the attention of a local businessman named Harry Monroe..."

"The whole truth, Aunt Theresa."

"Okay, Harry Monroe was a bootlegger. He specialized in smuggling European wines into Chicago and selling them to a wide variety of ethnic restaurants. Of course in those days he could only do so by paying a large percentage of his profits to the Capone mob."

Tyler remarks, "This is getting exciting. Harry ended up marrying Maria?"

"Yes, eventually. He was much older than Maria and not even Catholic, not to mention he wasn't Italian. But Maria fell for him hard. He spoke a fair amount of Italian because of his business connections, which was fortunate because Maria spoke no English at that point. Maria's parents were at first reluctant to let their daughter marry such a man, even though he seemed to be respected and successful. To persuade her parents of his good intentions, Harry helped the family set up a small restaurant and even supplied their wines for free. How could they refuse after that? Maria and Harry were married and she went to live in his fancy apartment in the 'respectable' part of town. A year later, Mama was born."

Joan adds, "Now comes the good part."

Theresa frowns at Joan's characterization but continues, "After Capone was arrested for income tax evasion, the 'Untouchables' cranked up their campaign against all bootleggers in town. Harry was caught red-handed and was personally arrested by Eliot Ness."

"Oh the scandal!" Joan says while feigning shock.

"It's not funny! Maria was left with a baby to care for and no money. It seems 'Harry' lived the lifestyle of a rich man, but it was all a house of cards. As soon as Harry was behind bars, Maria found she had no assets and had to return to her parent's home to work in the restaurant. Prison broke Harry, and he died shortly before his sentence was up. Mama grew up in an Italian neighborhood with a name like Monroe and with a father who was absent because he was a jailbird."

Joan nods, becoming serious. "Yeah, that was rough on her, and so her mother and grandparents overcompensated. They let her have her way in all matters and provided her with the best of everything, which probably didn't make her too popular with the kids in the neighborhood. It also earned her the nickname of 'Princess'."

Theresa challenges, "Where did you get that interpretation?"

"I was a really inquisitive kid and I wanted...no, demanded to know why my grandparents were divorced. I pried out of Grandpa Gerald his view of why their marriage failed."

Theresa sniffs, "Him!"

"And Dad reluctantly confirmed it. Grandpa's grave is our next stop." Joan says as she leads the way back to the limo.

Although Joan's grandparents are buried in the same cemetery, they are as far apart as geographically possible. Eventually they park near the grave of Gerald Girardi, and Ross quickly gets another wreath from the trunk. Tyler and Joan exit the limo, but Theresa doesn't budge.

"Aunt Theresa, aren't you coming?"

"No. I have no desire to visit the grave of...that man."

"What do you mean, 'that man'? He's your father."

"Gerald Girardi stopped being my father when he cheated on Mama and destroyed our family."

Joan pauses a moment, remembering her assignment has to do with grudges. She gives Tyler a quick wink before leaning into the car and whispering...

"Aunt Theresa, please, your embarrassing me in front of Tyler. Do you want him to be turned off of me due to our family drama?"

Theresa hesitates, weighing her lifelong disdain for her father against her desire to see her beloved niece in a successful relationship with a man like Tyler Christian, billionaire.

"Okay Joan, I'll come - but only for you."

"Thank you, Auntie."

The trio proceed to the grave and arrive as Ross is returning to the car. The wreath is already resting on the headstone. Once again everyone automatically becomes quiet and contemplative. Joan can tell that being at her father's grave for the first time is an emotional strain on her aunt.

Tyler remarks, "A double headstone, but the other name, Margaret Girardi, has no death date."

Joan answers, "That's grandpa's second wife, and she is still alive and residing in Chicago."

"And the rank...Captain?"

"Grandpa was a uniformed Chicago cop for thirty years. He loved the job, and for a few years before his retirement, Dad and he were on the force at the same time. It was one of the few things they could talk civilly about. Grandpa died a year after he retired. I was eight at the time."

"Do you remember him well?"

"Not really. I only saw Grandpa Gerald a few times growing up. Even at a young age I realized relations between Dad and Grandpa were incredibly strained."

"Because of the break up of his first marriage?"

"Oh, it goes way beyond that. Care to try to explain Aunt Theresa, or shall I? Fair warning, my version comes off a little angry."

Theresa turns her head away. "I will not participate in this conversation."

"Okay, my version. Gerald and Eleanor had a horrible marriage. They fought all the time and only remained together for the 'sake of the kids' and because of the demands of the church - no divorce."

"That's not true..." Theresa protests.

"My version, remember? Anyway, one night after the two of them had the mother of all fights, Gerald stormed out - the male option when there are kids. Gerald goes to a bar, gets thoroughly drunk, and has the bad luck to meet a sexy co-worker who has the hots for him, with the usual results. The next day Gerald, hungover and wracked with Catholic guilt, goes to Eleanor and begs her forgiveness. 'Princess' isn't the forgiving type and she files for divorce."

Joan pauses as she sees Theresa is begining to get misty eyed...

"Joan, why are you doing this?"

"I'm venting. That's what happens when you let anger build up. You see Tyler, my grandparent's divorce wasn't one of those civilized ones. It was as bitter and nasty as Eleanor could make it. She did everything she could to turn her kids against their own father. That's why Aunt Theresa never spoke to Gerald for the rest of his life, and my Dad could barely tolerate the man, and only spoke to him when he felt obligated by family duty."

"Divorce often leads to such tragic results. It's a sad but common story."

"Well, here's the uncommon part. I was never told that Grandpa remarried, or that he had another son, my Uncle Richard. I was sixteen years old before I stumbled upon the truth!"

"Joan, that's...shocking, but how is it possible?"

"Because my entire family took part in a conspiracy to deny me and my brothers the knowledge of other family members. Co-conspirators included my parents, my grandmother, my dear Auntie and even my grandfather who had to keep the secret as the price of being allowed to see his own grandchildren!"

Joan glares at her aunt who blushes deeply. "I never lied to you."

"Except by omission. How could you take part in such a travesty, Aunt Theresa?"

"As you said, it was by omission. I never met this 'Richard' or his mother. It was Willie's idea to keep it all a secret. Even though he occasionally spoke to...our father, Willie was by far the angriest of us. Our family struggled in poverty, especially after the restaurant went out of business. Meanwhile, 'Gerald' and his new family lived a life of ease. It wasn't fair that we were tossed aside in favor of those...new people."

"Uncle Richard says Grandpa offered plenty of times to help Eleanor, but she always turned him down. She preferred to have her children think her ex was a monster rather than see them fully provided for." (Footnote.)

"That's a lie!"

"How would you know? You never spoke to your father after you were eight years old, and you've never even met Richard. Are you really certain Eleanor couldn't be that vindictive?"

Theresa hesitates, going over in her mind their family's sordid past. "Well...Mama could carry a grudge, and she did become especially bitter after the restaurant failed. I don't know...maybe things were as messed up as you say, Joan. Even as a child, I knew my parent's divorce was outside the ordinary but...I grew to accept Mama's view of our world. It became my way of thinking too."

Joan takes Theresa's hand and leads her to the grave. "We were both eight years old when we lost him. You because of the divorce, and me because he died much too soon. But even at eight, I could form a judgement of his character. Grandpa was a good man at heart."

Theresa begins to sob and Joan gives her a supportive hug.

"Aunt Theresa, I forgive you for keeping me in the dark all of those years. Can you forgive him?"

Lip trembling, Theresa Girardi cries out, "Oh Papa..."

X X X X X

Joan yawns. No, mustn't give in to sleepiness - not now of all times. But it has been a long day, starting with jogging before sunrise, and now it is nearly midnight. Joan checks her appearance in the mirror - not bad, even if she does say so herself. Hair and make-up look good, and the lingerie ought to cause Tyler's eyes to pop out. It is an ankle length pink nightgown that is completely see-through except for three strategically placed heart-shaped spots with a darker pink lace. If only they had gotten an earlier start on this evening of romance-slash-sex.

After Theresa's breakdown at the cemetery, Joan had Tyler drive them home. It was odd the way she trusted Tyler not to be judgemental or turned off by all of this family drama, but somehow Joan just knew he would be understanding. They agreed to reconnect that evening as soon as Joan had her aunt calmed down. Unfortunately, that took far more time than Joan had considered. There were decades of hard feelings to deal with, and a complete reorganizing of Theresa's way of thinking about her parents. Theresa spent a lot of time defending her mother, which Joan couldn't completely disagree with - after all, Gerald did break up the marriage through his one time of cheating. Still, it was a slow process for Theresa to accept that her father wasn't the total villian Eleanor had spent years painting him to be.

Eventually Joan managed to convince her aunt that it was time to reach out to a side of the family she had pretended didn't exist. Joan made a phone call to Uncle Richard, whom she has remained in contact with ever since discovering his existence. He was more than eager to speak to the half-sister he only knew by name. It was awkward at first, but gradually Theresa opened up and listened attentively to Richard's side of the family story, including much about the missing years of Theresa's father. Aunt Theresa was delighted to learn she has another niece and nephew and tenative plans were made for Theresa to visit Richard in Baltimore when Theresa comes to Arcadia this summer to help with Willie's campaign. (Richard was highly amused by the 'Willie' reference.) Both brother and sister expressed the hope that Willie would join them in the planned family reunion.

Finally free to resume her evening with Tyler, Joan travelled to his condo for a catered late supper, complete with a serving staff. Unlike most of the guys Joan has known, Tyler turned out to be a true romantic who preferred the slow seduction complete with soft music, candles and expensive wine. By the time the staff was dismissed for the evening, and after a bit of make-out time, it was very late. Joan's visit to the master bedroom's bath to prepare for 'romance' has come almost too late for her to remain awake. Still, she is determined to follow through with their plans for the night, and hopes she doesn't fall asleep.

With one last look in the mirror, Joan reaches for the door handle and...freezes. Suddenly a overwhelming nervousness engulfs her. What is she doing, about to have sex with a guy she has known measured only in hours? This is not how she was raised. True, she likes Tyler and is very attracted to him, but she has never been the type of girl who bed hops with every cute guy she meets. Despite the strong connection she feels for Tyler, one that she cannot fully explain, she knows she doesn't love him, nor does he love her. Perhaps in time a greater commitment could be possible between them, but for the moment it is just friendship with a fair amount of lust.

Is that enough? She was so sure before when making her plans to come to Chicago...or was she? Perhaps Tyler was right, she is here to avoid the romantic maelstrom Dylan Hunter represents in her life. It was the perfect excuse to avoid having to spend spring break with Dylan - the visit to Martha where she could hardly bring a boyfriend along... Boyfriend? The very word causes Joan to shudder. Okay, brutal honesty time. Part of the reason she is here, in Chicago and with Tyler, is that the one night she spent with Dylan...scared her. It has been less than a year since Jimmy's death, and she is not ready to go down that path again, at least not yet. Dylan is so damn sure, 100 percent sure, that the two of them are destined soul mates. In those rare moments when Joan is willing to contemplate that possibility, she is at most 50 percent sure. Maybe that unresolved grudge from their early days is the problem. After all, God's assignment for her was about resolving old grudges...

"Joan?" Tyler's voice calls from the bedroom.

Joan sighs and turns the door handle. Ready or not...? Would Tyler hate her if she called off tonight's activities at such a late moment? Well, maybe not hate but he would be pissed. Joan enters the bedroom and sees the joy in Tyler's eyes as he takes in her nearly naked form.

"Joan, you look exquisite."

"Exquisite? I've never been called that before. I think I like it." Joan says as she sees Tyler has changed too. He is now wearing a knee length black silk robe, and probably nothing else.

"I was begining to worry you had changed your mind." Tyler says as he takes Joan into his arms and gives her a long, romantic kiss.

"More like I was about to fall asleep. I was up at dawn to jog, so it has been a long day for me." Joan says as she returns the kiss with considerable fervor. That hot Girardi libido begins to stir and Joan feels her tiredness and doubts start to fade.

Trying not to sound disappointed Tyler responds, "If you're too tired, we don't have to..."

Joan smiles and shakes her head. Tyler really is a hot guy, and Joan feels that connection between them as strongly as ever. "No, I'm getting my second wind. Just don't be surprised if I fall asleep right afterwards."

"I promise not to be offended."

They resume kissing, and gentle caresses soon follow. But...Joan senses a certain reluctance in Tyler. Somthing is bothering him enough to distract from a moment when no distractions should exist.

"Tyler, what's wrong?"

"I...need to tell you something."

"Now?"

"Yes, definitely before...this. It has to do with why we didn't sleep together that first night."

"We've already been through that. I forgive you for being such a perfect gentleman, so stop and be a caveman for now."

"Joan, this is important."

"Gee, you're not about to tell me you're a virgin, are you?"

"Be serious."

Joan frowns. "You better not be about to say you're married."

"No, not that."

Joan gulps and asks, "Disease...?"

"No, thank God, not that either."

"Then what?"

"That first night in Atlantic City, I...used sexual charisma on you."

Joan steps quickly back, shocked. In her expereince there has only been one other man, wealthy and charming, who regularly used the ability of sexual charisma to seduce and control women he found useful to his plans - including the seduction of one of Joan's close friends. Ryan Hunter.

"What the hell are you?"

To Be Continued.

(Footnote: My version of the Gerald/Eleanor breakup and subsequent third child for Gerald is found in my story, MY OLD MAN.)


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

3-26-08/Wednesday.

Just as the sun is rising Joan leaves her aunt's home for her morning jog. She pauses when she sees a BMW convertible parked behind her compact rental car. Standing next to the convertible, in a jogging suit, is Tyler Christian.

"What do you want?" Joan coldly asks.

"Same as last night – to talk."

"We have nothing to say to each other, and why are you here at such an early hour?"

"You mentioned you jog in the mornings, and from what I saw last night, your body is in amazing shape. I figured you train every day."

"I do, and you're holding me up." Joan says as she does a few quick stretching exercises. Tyler imitates her moves.

"You stormed out so quickly last night, I didn't have a chance to explain."

"What's there to explain? You used sexual charisma on me – turned me into your plaything for your sick amusement. This whole 'connection' thing was a total lie – just a trick on your part."

Joan turns and jogs away. Tyler quickly follows. Joan keeps her pace steady and is aware that Tyler is easily keeping up. What is wrong with the man? Can't he see how angry she is? But damn it, Joan still feels that 'special connection'. Is he still using sexual charisma on her? Never having been on the receiving end before, Joan isn't sure.

They continue jogging with Tyler maintaining a close distance behind her until they reach Jefferson Staten High. Joan heads for the school's mile long track which is deserted at this early hour, especially during spring break. Joan begins to run faster and faster. Okay old man, let's see what you've got. Maintaining a sexual charisma hold on someone requires a lot of concentration. How well can you concentrate while gasping for air?

Joan pours on the speed and soon her own breathing is labored. The pair continues to run, one mile, two miles and more. It is obvious Tyler is in good condition, but he doesn't run like this everyday as Joan does. At the third mile he begins to lag behind, and a glance over her shoulder confirms for Joan that the 32 year old is pooping out. She smiles when she sees Tyler begin to stagger from exhaustion, and then stops – gasping for air. Joan pauses and then runs back to Tyler who is now on his hands and knees breathing hard.

"You okay? You're not about to have a heart attack or something, are you?"

"I'm…okay. Haven't...pushed myself…in a long time."

Tyler stops talking as he concentrates on getting his breath back. Joan can't believe she is feeling sorry for the guy. Even worse, she still feels that special connection. There's no way Tyler is using sexual charisma now. Oh crap, that means she is genuinely attracted to him.

"Here, give me your arm."

Joan helps Tyler up and they make their way over to a nearby water fountain. After a few sips of water (he knows better than to gulp), Tyler's breathing slowly returns to normal.

"We have to keep walking or you'll stiffen up."

Tyler nods, conserving his breath as he and Joan begin walking around the track. They walk in silence and it takes Joan awhile to notice that she is still holding his arm. Reluctantly, she let's go.

Tyler says, "I use to go to school here, a lifetime ago."

"Me too."

"I still make donations to the alumni fund so that none of the school programs have to be cut."

"Like the music department?"

"Yes, but don't tell your aunt. I never took one of her classes and that's why she doesn't remember me."

"Sworn."

They come to a set of steps that lead up to the main school building, and they sit side by side. They are silent, breathing in the crisp morning air and letting their bodies relax…

"Explain." Joan demands.

"I use to be an instrument of God."

"That I had figured. Did you quit or were you thrown out?"

"I quit – almost ten years ago."

Joan nods. That explains the low level of light she has seen in him. People acquire the light by one of two ways. Deep religious devotion, fueled by a love of God and His ways is one method. The other is to spend time in His presence, absorbing 'reflected glory' while being an instrument of God. A prolonged absence from Him would cause an individual's light to fade.

"What happened between us in Atlantic City? Was any of it real?"

"When Director Dunn introduced you as his 'psychic consultant', I knew right away what you really were. Your 'glow' was one of the brightest I've ever seen. I also felt an attraction that was the strongest I've ever had with a woman. That connection between us was very real."

"Is that when you used sexual charisma on me – to make me feel it too?"

"No, of course not. The time we spent together flowed naturally and the connection we experienced was mutual. Later, after you had bested that Iranian diplomat, Dunn was going to whisk you back to New York and out of my life. I feared I would never see you again, and I very much wanted to spend more time with you. That was when I used the sexual charisma, just as my tutor taught me all of those years ago. It was the first time I've ever used the ability and I wasn't sure it would work, but you suddenly agreed to spend the night."

"I remember. I also remember throwing myself at you, but you wouldn't have sex with me."

"I couldn't, not under those circumstances. It would have been a monstrous breach of ethics. I felt guilty enough using the ability at all. I remember my tutor's warning that sexual charisma is used only by the other side, and I was ashamed I had crossed that line."

Joan blushes, remembering she received the same caution from her own tutor. "What I don't understand is how I missed what you were doing. Whenever I've used sexual charisma…"

Tyler gasps. "Joan, you've used the ability? But…it's against the rules!"

"Glass houses, buddy. But back to my point, how did I miss such an overwhelming control of my thoughts and actions?"

Tyler frowns. "You're talking about full blown sexual charisma – the last and most compelling step when an individual comes completely under your control. I would never do that. I used only step one, a mild stroking of the libido."

Joan gulps hard, remembering her tutor's lecture on the various stages of the sexual charisma ability. At level one the sex drive is revved up, but only enough to cause you to want to sleep with someone you were already attracted to…

"Oh crap, how long does that stage last?"

"As I recall, it slowly wanes over a period of 24 hours."

Joan grimaces as she remembers her time in New York and how hard it was to concentrate because she felt…tingly. And she slept with Dylan long before the 24 hours were up…

"Joan, you've gone pale. Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not. I feel like my world has turned upside down."

"Joan, I'm sorry for what I did. I know it was wrong, but I liked you so much and I just wanted to spend more time with you."

"How do I know you haven't used sexual charisma on me more than once? Maybe you're using it right now."

"Take a read on me."

Joan nods and focuses her ability to read people on Tyler, blocking all other spiritual stimuli. Tyler cooperates by letting his guard down and allowing Joan complete access to his soul. It is an overwhelming sensory experience as Joan absorbs a dizzying array of information involving Tyler's thoughts, will and emotions. Quickly she sees Tyler has been telling her the complete truth, and there are few surprises in his inner most being. Tyler is a kind, gentle man with an old fashioned nature who is genuinely attracted to her. He even has the hope that their attraction can eventually lead to much more. Despite his one deception, Tyler is an honest man, a good guy…with one exception.

Tyler Christian has an enormous grudge against God.

X X X X X

Joan parks in front of the Gerald Girardi household - sole occupant the Widow Girardi, Margaret. Joan isn't thrilled about this development. She would have preferred to stick with Tyler to find out what was wrong between him and God, but he got a phone call from the office that required his presence. Apparently re-arranging a billionaire's schedule at the last moment isn't as easy as he thought. (Tyler even made the comment, does he own the company or does it own him?) Achy and limping slightly, Tyler made it back to his BMW, but expresed the regret that he hadn't had his chauffeur drive him that day.

With time on her hands, Joan remembered her promise to Uncle Richard during yesterday's phone call to pay a visit on his mother. Uncle Richard has become concerned about his mother living alone especially since she has recently retired from a lifelong career at nursing. Having called ahead, Joan's knock is instantly answered by a 65 year old woman who is obviously in perfect health.

"Hello...Mrs. Girardi, I'm Joan. Joan Girardi."

Margaret Girardi smiles politely and waves Joan in. "Welcome, Joan. Richard has spoken often of his 'favorite' niece."

As Joan is led into a comfortable living room she jokes, "I'm his favorite only because he hasn't met my sister."

"I wasn't aware you had a sister, Joan." Margaret says as they sit on a sofa and begin to share tea.

"She's new, a late-in-life surprise for my parents, born ten months ago."

"How nice for them...I guess. Isn't Will over fifty now?"

"Fifty-two, and yes they realize what a challenge the next twenty years will be with E.T."

"With who?"

"Oh, that's what I call her. Her full name is Eleanor Theresa Girardi."

Margaret automatically frowns at the name but then forces a polite smile to her face. "Richard has told me how you visit him in Baltimore two or three times a year. He seems to have become genuinely fond of you, Joan."

"It's mutual."

"I take it he still isn't welcome in his brother's home?" Margaret asks, her voice steely.

Joan blushes. "He hasn't tried since the one time he stopped by and gave Grandpa's old police badge to Dad."

"Yes, Richard carefully preserved that badge for his brother even though it probably meant more to him than Will."

"I've seen Dad holding that badge while looking through old family photos."

"With nostolgia or regrets? The latter, I would hope."

Joan sighs. "Okay, we might as well have it out. I know you bear my Dad a huge grudge and...I can't really blame you. Feel free to vent."

For a moment a look of eagerness crosses Margaret Girardi's face - she has a lot she would like to get off her chest. But she hesitates and then shakes her head...

"No. There's no sense in stirring up all of those hurt feelings, especially to you, Joan. You're the only one from Gerald's earlier life who has made the effort to reach out to Richard."

"You're being polite, but sometimes you have to be blunt to get over things. I'll start. How the hell could Grandpa have participated in that farce I call my childhood? How could he hide you and Richard from us?"

A flash of anger crosses Margaret's face. "Do you think for even one moment Gerald wanted to take part in that...'farce'? It tore him apart to have to chose between Will's way and speaking the truth. The strain it put on Gerald, having to pretend we didn't exist like some shameful secret, probably shortened his life. But he was willing to do it because he got to see you and your brothers. It was the toll he had to pay to cross the threshold of Will Girardi!"

Joan nods. "Good. Let it out. I know what Dad did was wrong, and I sorta understand his motives, but they don't justify what he did."

"No they don't. But...to be fair, I remember Will as being a basically good young man who had this one enormous blind spot in his life, which was mostly his mother's fault..." Margaret says, her voice tailing off bitterly.

"Did you know my Grandma well?"

"No, thank God. I only met her a few times." (Shudders.) "I met Gerald while I was working at the hospital, this was about a year after his divorce. He was considerably older than me, but he was so handsome in his uniform. I fell for him almost immediately. While we were dating I learned about the divorce and his two kids, and I knew he had...strained relations with his ex. I saw how torn up he was about the mess he had made of his first marriage, and I accepted that Gerald would be bringing a lot of baggage into our marriage. I loved him so much, I was willing to accept a lifetime of drama involving his first family. That was before I met Eleanor."

"Not what you expected?"

"My first encounter with Eleanor Monroe was after an appointment with my obstetrician. I was six months pregnant when Eleanor 'ambushed' us in the parking lot. She was screaming and making an awful scene - calling me a whore and our child a bastard because we weren't married in the church. That sort of thing wasn't important to me, being married in a civil ceremony, but it always disturbed your grandfather. Eleanor always knew the right buttons to push with him."

Joan responds, "I'm...appalled by what I'm hearing. My memeories of Grandma Eleanor are all happy ones, mostly involving homemade cookies and family stories that had way too many Italian words in them."

"She never spoke against Gerald?"

Joan searches her memories. "Well...she never had anything good to say about him, but I don't recall any active anti-Grandpa campaign."

"Maybe she mellowed in her old age. Maybe she saw what a mistake she made turning her children against their father. I always thought Eleanor encouraged Will to keep in contact with Gerald because it gave her access to our lives so she could bring more pain to us."

"How so?"

"Theresa simply wouldn't speak to Gerald. He had visitation privledges, but Theresa would never go with him, and Gerald didn't want to drag her away screaming and crying. He always hoped that in time, and with patience, Theresa would forgive him. But if Will had acted the same way, Eleanor wouldn't have known what was going on in our lives so she could plan ways to spoil our happiness."

"Like showing up after a doctor's appointment to scream about your child. How bad was it with Dad?"

"At first, not so bad. He was just a little boy when I first met him, and Gerald was so happy to have him visit us. I did the best I could to welcome Will into our home, and for awhile I thought our relationship would be a cordial one. Then Richard came along and Will started to change. Our lives were so much more comfortable than what he was use to at home, and he began to resent it. I suspect Eleanor was fueling that fire. Gerald was so wracked with guilt, he never tried to discipline Will when he would mouth off about how Richard was the 'favored' child."

"From Dad's point of view, he and his sister had been replaced by Richard, and compared to where they lived, this house is a virtual mansion."

"Gerald continued to get promotions and I had a good paying job, plus there was money from my parents. Of course we provided for our son as generously as we could, but it wasn't our fault that Gerald's first family fell into poverty. We didn't cause Eleanor's restaurant to fail."

"Yeah...I always wondered about that. Grandma was such an amazing cook, how could she have lost the restaurant? It was a successful business for decades."

Margaret shrugs. "Gerald always said Eleanor was great in the kitchen but lousy with the office details. She ran a small, strictly neighborhood place that was unknown outside of Little Italy. Over time the Italian community began to drift away, especially after the city ran the Ryan Parkway through the middle of the neighborhood. Eleanor was unable to attract a new customer base. Gerald offered many times to help out, far beyond the state mandated child support, but Eleanor always stubbornly refused."

Joan nods. "Grandma still owned the building and the three of them ended up living in the small apartment above the old restaurant."

"Gerald said Eleanor tried renting the space below to other businesses, but none could ever make a go of it in that location. That's when money got really tight and Will began withdrawing from our lives. That hurt Gerald, but it hurt Richard far more. He hero worshipped his big brother, the high school star athlete who went on to try to make it in a professional baseball career. I think that if Will had been successful in baseball, it would have gone a long way in repairing his relationship with his father. When Will had to admit he wasn't going to make it in sports, it was one disappointment too many. I always resented that Will took out on Richard his problems with Gerald."

"I wish I could defend Dad, but I agree. I like Uncle Richard, and the way Dad treated him was just plain wrong. I get that he was hurt and disappointed by how his life had turned out at that point, but Richard had no part in that. I can only say, he does have a lot of regrets about how he behaved. Maybe Dad's decision to become a cop like his father was an olive branch on his part?"

"For years Gerald thought so, but I always doubted it. I think Will set out to show up his old man, to best him in everything by being the perfect husband, father, provider and cop. It was a rub-your-nose-in-it life's ambition. It is why Will was so driven to rise higher and faster than Gerald in the department. It's also why Will nearly ruined his career."

"What do you mean?"

"You know about your father and what he did when he was on the narcotic's squad?"

Joan reluctantly nods. "He used an old cop trick of pretending to get an anonymous tip in order to bring down a notorious drug dealer. It was an end-run around the rules that a lot of other detectives used, but Dad got caught. He was busted down to patrolman and had to start over from the bottom. We had our own little era of tight budgeting at that time."

"Gerald was in his last year on the force then, he was a captain and had a lot of friends in the department. Will was going to be fired, but Gerald called in every favor ever owed him to save Will's job. He never told Will."

"I didn't know that. Why didn't Grandpa tell Dad about it?"

"He thought he owed it to Will. Gerald carried with him the 'guilt that would not die'. He saw Will's moral lapse as just another consequence of his own moral failure. He wanted Will to have that chance to try again that he never got."

"Wow...the ripples just go on forever."

"Ripples?"

"Uh, a concept a friend told me. How our actions are like a stone hitting the surface of a pond and rippling out to touch areas we had never thought about. Well, maybe we can counter some of those ripples. Aunt Theresa and Uncle Richard have opened the lines of communication, and hopefully you will be a part of that."

"I don't know Joan, isn't it too late to mend fences?"

"As long as we're breathing, it's never too late. What do you say, for Grandpa's sake?"

Margaret smiles. "I see why Richard has become so fond of you. Alright Joan, I'll give it a try. I know it is what Gerald desperately hoped for all of his life. Maybe reconciling his family is the one last gift we can give him..."

X X X X X

Joan leaves her grandfather's home feeling pretty good about herself. She has this dealing with grudges thing down pat. Margaret has agreed to time her annual vacation to Baltimore with Theresa's meeting with Richard. (Joan suspects Richard will also try to get his mother to move to Baltimore so he can watch over her in her 'old age', but Margaret seems too energetic and feisty for that.) Now, when she returns to Arcadia, Joan only has to convince her father to join this family reunion. Yeah...'only'.

As Joan reaches the curb a large black limousine screeches to a halt in front of her. Has Tyler followed her? But when the limo's back door opens, out steps the hulking form of Homeland Security agent, Melvin Brown. Brown is Director Dunn's right hand man and Joan has developed a certain fondness for the giant fed.

"Hey Melvin..."

"Get in the car, Miss Girardi." Brown says in his most official government voice.

"Uh-oh, sounds like someone's in trouble. What did I do to piss off I.B. this time?"

Brown suppresses a smile before adding, "Please."

Joan enters the limo and Brown moves to the front seat with the chauffeur. The car pulls away and Joan is isolated in the sound proof/bug proof back seat. There is a large monitor in front of Joan that suddenly comes on and there is Issac B. Dunn, director of covert operations for Homeland Security. The monitor is in black & white - a subtle reminder that this is how the color blind spy master sees the world.

"I.B., how're they hangin'?"

"Joan, I am unhappy with you."

"Really? And here I thought you were about to give me my quarterly review, filled with glowing terms like 'brilliant', 'beautiful', 'should get more money' and..."

"Joan, enough of this."

"Busy day in the command bunker?"

"Always. What are you doing in Chicago, and why are you dating Tyler Christian?"

"Spying on me again?"

"No, him."

"Why?"

"Joan, Mr. Christian's company supplies the Pentagon with a lot of high tech equipment and programming packages. We naturally closely monitor any such person. For weeks it has been common knowledge in the corporate headquarters that 'the boss' has been pursuing some young woman he met in Atlantic City."

"You have a spy in Tyler's office."

"Of course I do. I was amused when I first heard about this, but that changed when you actually showed up at his office. Joan, your assignments for Homeland Security are not meant to be dating opportunities for you. Remember, you were the one who insisted we keep your employment a big secret."

"Only Tyler knows about that part, and that's because you introduced me to him as one of your consultants. As for who I date, that's a M.Y.O.B. situation."

"Your life is very much my business, especially if your dating habits compromise your effectiveness."

"Wait...you're not just routinely monitoring Tyler. You're investigating him."

I.B. frowns and then nods. "Yes. There's been a security breech at TC TECH that compromises national security. Since you are on the scene, I may call on your services. Can you be objective?"

"Tyler is a suspect?"

"He's on a short list of...persons of interest. It might not be wise to get too close to this man, Joan. Break off contact unless I say otherwise."

"You're wrong about him, I.B. Tyler..." Joan pauses, remembering that Tyler is a man who stepped over the line when he used sexual charisma on her, and is a man who has a grudge against God. Could this be the way Ryan Hunter got his start - with that first ethical compromise?

"Tyler is what, Joan?"

"Someone I like. You may be right I.B., I can't be fully objective. But you can stop worrying about me getting too close to the man. Tyler and I hit a snag in our first steps toward...a relationship."

"Just as well. Stick with those you don't meet on the job, Joan. I can tell you from experience, it saves you a lot of headaches and heartaches."

"Why I.B., you old softie. If only it was that easy to connect with someone."

"What about that Dylan Hunter fellow? After all, you spent the night with him in New York."

"Hey...!"

"Don't. You know that the agency monitors any communication that involves you. A couple of the hotel staff texted friends that the 'high school sweethearts' who were on Rapid Dough were...making up."

Joan blushes and covers her face with her hands.

I.B. continues, "And speaking of this Dylan Hunter, it seems the two of you have spent weeks e-mailing each other in what appears to be code, but my cryptography department says it's gibberish. Have you been punking me Joan to teach me a lesson?"

Joan smiles. The 'code' she and Dylan have been using is written and read spiritually. To any ordinary code breaker, it would be gibberish. "Caught me, I.B. Stop tying up valuable resources spying on me."

"I only do it because I care."

"Yeah, right." Joan says but acknowledges there is some truth in that statement. I.B. Dunn, a former field agent himself, does his best to keep his people safe - as long as it doesn't compromise the mission.

"Goodbye Joan, and behave yourself."

The monitor clicks off and a few moments later the limo pulls to the side of the road. Agent Brown exits and before heading for a following government SUV, he speaks to the driver...

"Take Miss Girardi back to her car."

The limo pulls back out into traffic and the driver opens the tinted glass partition. Joan recognizes Chauffeur God.

"Comfortable back there, Joan?"

"Yeah, it's a sweet ride. So what's going on with Tyler? Just how many lines has he crossed?"

"You read his soul in depth, Joan. You know him as well as he knows himself. What do you think, is he capable of treason?"

"No." Joan says without hesitation. "But something is going on at his company. Problem is, I.B. has waved me off. And I have to admit, after learning of what Tyler pulled on me, I'm not quite so warm for his form. If you want to call me hypocrite, I can accept that."

"Not at all, Joan. Although I have expressed my doubts about your methods, your heart has never been compromised, and that is how I judge people. The few times you have used the ability of sexual charisma, it has been to help people and complete assignments. By the way, your current assignment is still in effect."

"The one about grudges? I guess that means Tyler, but I.B. said..."

"Joan, what did I once tell you about whose needs comes first?"

"That you're God and your needs...yadda yadda. But if I keep hanging out with Tyler, I.B. will be pissed."

"Compared to Me being...yadda yadda?"

Joan smiles. "Okay, no contest. I'll see Tyler again and look into his 'grudge' problem. I may even look around to see if I can help with the security leak in his company. Besides, despite my doubts, I still feel that 'special connection' with him... Wait, did you have something to do with that?"

"What do you mean, Joan?"

"I mean my being in Chicago at this time is no accident. Sure I like Tyler, and he's a good looking guy, but I've never before pursued a man halfway across the country for a roll in the hay. Just how involved were you in this connection Tyler and I feel?"

"You are both attractive young people with strong libidos, so naturally there was some degree of sexual interest. And with both of you having been my instruments, your souls share a similar nature, which increases that sense of connection."

"That's all? You didn't put your hand into this?"

Chauffeur God holds up his right hand, thumb and finger an inch apart. "For my own reasons, I added the slightest enhancement to that already existing connection."

"Which may be why Tyler crossed the line when he used sexual charisma on me. Maybe. But why drag me into this grudge between you and Tyler? Surely you could have dealt with it on your own?"

"There were other matters that needed your attention here in Chicago, Joan."

"How efficient of you. I'm killing two birds with one stone."

"Far more than two, Joan. It is important that you hear Tyler's side. Judge for yourself the legitimacy of his grudge against me."

To Be Continued.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

3-26-08/Wednesday.

Lunch with Aunt Theresa came with an update for her with the planned family reunion for this summer. Joan notes that she seems surprisingly enthusiastic about this growing gathering, including meeting the stepmother she never knew. With Tyler unavailable until evening, Joan begins to feel a little bored and decides to do the tourist thing in her hometown.

First stop is Millenium Park, which was scheduled to be completed in 2000 but went over by four years – after the Girardis had left Chicago. There is plenty of available parking as it is a damp, blustery day. Joan walks about the park heavily bundled against the weather and admires the modern facility. (She also wonders how a park can run 300 million over budget but makes no comment. After all, she is from Arcadia: 'The Most Corrupt City in America'.) Late March in a cold climate isn't the best time to visit a park, but Joan acknowledges that in warmer weather it must be an enjoyable place to spend time, especially at one of the outdoor concerts at the music pavilion. She pauses to admire the large, shiny modern art sculpture called 'Cloudgate' (but which she thinks looks a bit like a giant bean). The Crown Fountain is also interesting with the many faces of Chicagoans appearing on the sides of the structures inside the fountain area (but Joan feels it is more gimmick than art).

Next, Joan takes the trolley to Navy Pier – a known tourist attraction, but one of Joan's favorite places when she was a kid. The large Ferris wheel is still there, but considering the cold breeze coming off the lake, she decides to forego the eight minute ride. The crowds are small, which is rare, but Joan still doesn't find herself enjoying this visit as she buys some touristy type souvenirs for the family. Maybe the poet is right, you can't go home again. Or maybe these experiences can only be enjoyed if you are sharing them with someone…

Dylan Hunter – he has been on Joan's mind all day. For weeks after their one night of passion, Joan has been holding Dylan off – not completely eliminating him from the picture, but not encouraging him in any way either. Part of this is her admitted concern that Dylan wants to proceed rapidly into a very deeply committed relationship, which Joan isn't ready for. The other part is Tyler Christian, the handsome billionaire who kept sending her flowers and romantic poetry. Joan couldn't get him out of her mind during the time since their meeting in Atlantic City, but now…? She believes Tyler when he said he only used the sexual charisma ability on her once, and only in the mildest form. Some might think it flattering that he would be willing to 'cross the line' for the first time in his life because of the strong attraction he feels for her. But for Joan…it has spoiled everything. There is still a connection between them, but Joan now sees that it is mostly a spiritual one for her… Okay, masked by a fair amount of overactive libido. With Tyler now in the 'assignment' category, Joan is sure she has nothing to worry about when it comes to romance.

X X X X X

On the 50th floor of the Hancock building, Joan waits patiently for the big surprise Tyler has prepared for their dinner. Even as she hears the ding of the oven timer, Joan is sure she doesn't have to worry about anything physical ever happening between her and Tyler. She is here to help him with his God grudge, and maybe lend a hand with the security leak in his company – no more. This time Joan hasn't brought an oversized purse containing sexy lingerie and a spare toothbrush.

"I hope you like pepperoni." Tyler says as he enters with an enormous pizza. "Traditional deep dish –Chicago style, in honor of your return to the old hometown."

"Oh…I love it."

Tyler smiles. "I may not read people anymore, but even I can tell that was less than the truth."

Joan smiles back. "Okay, confession time. I'm a lousy Chicagoan. I like my pizza thin crust, but pepperoni really is my favorite."

"Maybe I should have done the traditional Chicago hot dog with onions, relish, mustard, hot peppers, sliced tomato and celery salt."

"Nope, I prefer mine with just ketchup."

Tyler laughs. "I'm dining with a Philistine."

Joan chuckles too and gives a thick crust slice a try. "Not bad. So, you said you can't read people any more?"

"It's not that I can't, I just don't have the time to spare for all of the hours of meditation it takes to keep in practice. Over time I've let the ability slide, along with all of my other spiritual gifts."

"So tell me, what's your story? Why did you quit serving 'Him'?"

Tyler sighs. "I knew this was coming and thought I was prepared, but it still hurts to talk about even after all of these years. I guess for you it seems unbelievable that anyone would want to leave God's service."

"Actually…I quit last year for a brief time."

"You? Joan, that seems hard to believe."

"The circumstances were difficult, and I soon realized I had made a mistake. God took me back."

Tyler bitterly responds, "He…'took you back'? That old…"

"Careful."

Tyler hesitates and nods. "Okay, you wanted my life story. Ordinary childhood in a working class home with two annoying sisters…that I love. I was always a bit of a science geek with an especial fascination for computers. Then, a month before my 15th birthday, God showed up. On Saturdays I liked to play chess in the park, taking on all comers. I never lost until one day an African-American man sat down and whipped me at the game five times in a row. If that wasn't startling enough, he told me he was God. Of course I thought he was a loon, brilliant at chess but still a loon. Then he began telling me intimate details about my life that no one could possibly know. He told me to try out for the baseball team at school. At first I ignored him, but then 'She' appeared as a sub English teacher, followed by an Asian gardener. By then I was worried I was going crazy, but I did what he said…"

"Good ripples?"

"You know that phrase too? Yeah, I actually made it to second string and then noticed something was wrong. One of the boys on the team had an unusual, intense relationship with our popular and respected coach. Turns out, Coach was a perv who was pressuring my team mate to have sex with him. I encouraged the guy to report the coach and he did. It seems Coach had been seducing boys for years."

"A good first assignment. Mine was to just get hired at a book store, but that set off a chain of events that caused a murderer to be caught."

"So you understand, after a start like that, I was all in. Anything the Big Guy wanted, I was gung-ho for. I served through all of high school, going into advanced training my senior year. After that came college and the assignments kept coming faster and faster. It was dangerous work having to deal with demons, criminals and even the occasional vampire."

"Been there, done that."

Tyler nods. "My personal life suffered, even my grades suffered since there were so many demands on my time. Still, I kept serving but…I began to resent it. What about my life? Didn't I deserve some personal happiness? My relations with my family were always strained. I became unreliable when it came to family plans because God would show up with another assignment. I often came home with injuries I couldn't explain, and there were long absences that were also inexplicable. Naturally it also became impossible to keep a girlfriend under those circumstances. My life became so…lonely and isolated."

Joan gulps hard as she realizes she may be hearing her own immediate future being described. "What made you quit?"

"At first I tried to negotiate with God – have him cut back on my schedule of service. You can imagine his reaction."

"That his needs come first. Yeah, it can be annoying but you knew this when you sign on for advanced training. Our personal lives and ambitions have to be squeezed in between the times he requires us. In the end you have to take solace in the fact that you are doing good work that helps a lot of people."

"I told myself that for years, but in college I started to gain success in the field that had fascinated me all of my life. I developed a couple of websites that really took off and the money began rolling in. But I wasn't just a programmer. I had ideas that could make computers run faster and make better decisions. At first it was industrial applications, but soon I saw the possibility of military computer enhancements. I could make smart bombs smarter and missiles more accurate. Our military would be able to take out the enemy with far fewer civilians being at risk. I saw that this was important work too, and I had backers ready to start me in my envisioned business. But…God!"

"He didn't want you to do it?"

"On the contrary, he said I was free to go in any direction I wanted, and he had no objections to me becoming rich, but I had to choose what was most important to me – serving him or serving my own desires. I knew I couldn't go on the way I had been and still be fair to the people who were investing in me, and trusting me to do the job right. At some point I would have to make that choice."

"I have a feeling this ends badly."

"God told me that while I was deciding, he had an apprentice who was nearing the time of beginning advanced training. She was being raised up a little ahead of schedule in case I bolted from his service, and God wanted me to prepare her for that time of decision by explaining my own dilemma to her. Her name was Sheila Franz…"

Tyler removes a photo from his pocket and passes it over to Joan. Joan sees a much younger Tyler with an attractive young woman with brown hair, medium height and an obvious affection for the man beside her…

"She…sorta looks like me."

"Too Freudian? Yeah, one of the things that first attracted me to you Joan was your vague resemblance to Sheila. She had that bright glow like you do."

"And she loved you. Why are we speaking in the past tense?"

"I laid it on the line for Sheila, told her all of the hazards that awaited and the personal life dilemma I was facing. She still wanted to advance with God, and frankly, I couldn't blame her. At a similar point in my life, no one could have talked me out of going forward either. But the more time I spent with Sheila, the more doubts I began to have. Suddenly there was someone in my life who understood all that I was going through, someone who had the potential to be…a soulmate. I became unsure about quitting God's service. I could see a future, side-by-side with another instrument of God and being genuinely happy. I was falling in love with Sheila."

Tyler's voice trails off as he becomes lost in deep thought. Joan prompts him to continue...

"How did it end?"

"The day came when God finally bugged me one time too many. I had a meeting with some Pentagon brass. They were interested in some of my designs for missile enhancements, but they were also concerned about going into business with a 22 year old fresh out of college and with a reputation for being a little flaky. I had to make it to that meeting and make a good impression. Otherwise, any chance of getting a military contract was out the window and my company would fail only weeks after it got started. On the way there, Cabdriver God gave me a...ridiculous assignment. Something so simple, a boot camp rookie would find it demeaning. I was to go to a certain street corner and wait until I saw a very tall man holding a red umbrella. I was suppose to ask him the time."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, and at any other time I would have obeyed, but I couldn't miss my meeting so...I chose. I got the contract and was ready to celebrate with Sheila when I heard the news. Sheila died in a freak accident, the kind gravelings arrange."

Joan is silent as she contemplates this news. Gravelings are the weakest of all demons: grey, hideous little creatures who delight in arranging fatal accidents. They are a common first asignment in advanced training and normally do not represent a danger to an instrument of God.

"What did God have to say about this?"

"He never spoke to me again, and...I didn't want him to. Why would I want it confirmed that the petty assignment I turned my back on some how set off the chain of events that cost Sheila her life? There, that's my story." Tyler says as he leaves the table and goes into the living room.

Joan follows and joins Tyler as he sits on the sofa, staring at the flames in the fireplace...

"Tyler, you can't be sure..."

"Why else would God stop speaking to me? I caused the death of Sheila through my disobedience. I don't deserve to serve him."

"Have you tried? Did you call out to him, prayed?"

"No. He and I are done." Tyler says, his voice trembling with ill-hidden regret.

Joan feels so sorry for Tyler, and empathizes with what he is feeling. She lost Jimmy and resigned, but God took her back when she realized her mistake. Without thinking, Joan takes Tyler into her arms and gives him a supportive hug. He hugs back, and Joan feels a tenderness for him rising in her heart. How could she be cruel enough to deny him?

Tyler kisses her and Joan responds. More kisses follow, along with tantalizing caresses and Joan warms to the idea that maybe her moment with Tyler isn't over. Perhaps she has been too hasty in not giving him another chance? Their making out intensifies and clothes begin to be discarded. Tyler has rounded second base and Joan is waving him on to third when...a knock at the door.

Both groan in dismay as Joan whispers, "Ignore it."

The knocking gets louder, followed by the call of: "Federal agents!"

Tyler springs to his feet and quickly begins straightening his clothes. He hisses a blunt 'Get dressed' before going to the door. He ever so casually holds a newspaper in front of him. Joan barely has time to put back on her bra and blouse before Tyler opens the door. (These days impatient feds have been known to bust down people's doors - 4th amendment rights be damned.)

"Tyler Christian? I'm Agent Melvin Brown with Homeland Security, these are agents Moore and Laughton." Brown says as he barges into the condo uninvited. He pauses when he sees a rather scruffy looking Joan, red-faced and breathless on the sofa.

"Miss Girardi..." Brown says with a nod and an unconcealed grin. "Mr. Christian, I regret to inform you that a federal investigation of your factory and warehouse has shown serious discrepencies in your inventory. The items missing are all classified and under license to the federal government. We require you to accompany us for questioning."

"Am I being taken into custody? Will I need a lawyer?" Tyler asks.

"At the moment sir, we are keeping this casual. We would like you to come with us to your southside facility, where we will meet with several of your top management people. There we will explore any possible explanation for the missing missle guidance systems we are seeking."

"And I'm coming with you." Joan says having dug out of her bag the Homeland Security i.d. that identifies her as a 'consultant'. Of course since she has been warned off of this case, and Brown has every right to tell her to butt out, but he smiles...

"Always a pleasure, Miss Girardi."

X X X X X

The trip to the southside of Chicago is surprisingly quick due to the flashing lights of the government vehicle they travel in. On the way, Tyler holds her hand in the backseat while all are silent. Joan begins to wonder about her behavior... Why did she so suddenly reverse herself when she had decided there would be nothing physical between her and Tyler? Why was she about to toss him pity sex? Joan takes another read on the man next to her, this time reading Tyler as if she were meeting him for the first time. Yes...she missed something. Subconsciously Tyler has retained one of his spiritual gifts - one that he uses on a daily basis - the spiritual power of persuasion. Joan has only used this gift a few times, but Ryan Hunter use to be a master at it. It involves an instinctual understanding of your audience that manifests in your phrasing and vocal tone. It causes people to naturally want to be on your side, to listen and agree with your point of view.

Tyler is unaware he is doing this, but it explains why a 22 year old was able to convince Pentagon generals to trust a kid right out of college. It also explains why Tyler's story so moved Joan. He wanted her empathy, her support for his position and she responded by...kissing away the boo-boo. Okay, a lot more than kissing. But the fact is, Tyler's story did strike a nerve with Joan. For too long she has been lonely and isolated, and she can see now she needs exactly what Tyler described: a fellow instrument of God to face life with side-by-side, a soulmate.

Joan suddenly realizes with absolute clarity who that is, the only one it could ever be...Dylan. All of the doubts, all of the old hurts and grudges melt away and for the first time in a long time, Joan sees clearly what she wants, what she needs from her life ahead. Joan pulls her hand away from Tyler, that 'special connection' now dead. Is this why God wanted her in Chicago, to have this revealation? Well, one of the reasons.

The local factory and warehouse facility of TC TECH is a rather small place for such a prosperous business, but then the things they make are small and specialized items for industry and the military. They are passed through a security gate and park next to a two story office building of modest size...

"We received a lot of government grant money for building our factory here in an economically depressed area. It is of course high security, which explains the huge fence and alarms on every gate, door and window. All workers are searched before exiting the facility, per government regs." Tyler says as they enter the office building.

Brown counters, "Then why is part of your inventory missing?"

"I'm not convinced yet that it is. There may be a simpler explanation like an inventory goof. People do make mistakes. I'll want a visual inspection of every storage bin."

A rather obese man approaches and says, "We are already on that, Boss."

"This is Nick Salinger, my vee-pee of production. What's the word, Nick?"

"We have suspended second shift work while management and security are going over the plant and the warehouse with a fine toothed comb. If there are any real discrepencies, we will find them. Meanwhile, these...'agents' are holding up our latest shipment from Japan. Production will grind to a halt soon if we can't clear that shipment."

Tyler sighs and turns to Agent Brown. "We have contracts we have to fulfill, and I would remind you there are troops in the field who need constant re-supply. If we shut down too long, stockpiles can get dangerously low."

Brown nods. "What do you need?"

"Let me talk with my shipping manager, allow him to verify and enter into storage the Japan shipment. Otherwise, production could go down for days as orders get backed up."

"Alright, I'll allow it. Miss Girardi, I know you are not officially on this case, but...?"

"I'll be glad to look around and see if I can...smell anything rotten."

"Thank you."

Joan accompanies Tyler up the stairs, feeling his genuine concern for his life's work and the people who rely on the company for their livelihood.

"Are you worried this may become a disaster for your company?"

"No...at least not yet. I'm still hoping this is all some sort of mistake. The government vetted all of the people who work for me, and I trust everyone of them. For instance, the man we are about to meet. He has a lifetime of experience in the shipping industry, and I was very lucky to get him to work for me." Tyler says as they arrive at an office on the second floor. Tyler gives a perfunctory knock before entering. "Andrew, spare a moment...?"

Joan pauses in the doorway and gasps. She hasn't seen Andrew Baker, Sr. since the night of that fateful football game six years ago, but other than some additional grey hair, he looks the same. She was still fourteen at the time, but Baker recognizes her too...

"You're that Girardi girl."

"And you're the scumbag who sued my family after your son crippled my brother. Tyler, this is your thief. He's the one who has been stealing from your company."

Baker snarls, "How dare you? I'll sue you for that scurrilous lie."

Tyler asks, "Joan, are you sure...special way sure?"

"Absolutely." Joan says, reading Baker's guilt like a banner headline.

"I'll get Agent Brown."

Baker protests, "Boss...Mr. Christian, you can't believe this acusation. What proof does she has?"

"I trust her. The proof will come later."

Tyler turns to leave the room, but Baker suddenly pulls a gun from his desk drawer...

"Hold it! Close that door."

Tyler complies, and shakes his head in disbelief. "Andrew, be sensible. There are several government agents downstairs, not to mention building security. One shot and they will be here in a minute. You're already in enough trouble. What good will that gun do you?"

In response Baker removes a silencer from the drawer and quickly attaches it to the pistol.

Joan comments, "Great security you have here."

Tyler answers, "We only search those exiting. I see now that was a mistake. Andrew, what do you plan to do with that?"

Baker is clearly scared, which makes him desperate and dangerous. "Oh God, I never thought it would come to this. I just needed the money so much, and other countries were willing to pay a fortune for just a few tiny parts. I never wanted to...kill anyone."

Joan says, "No? Then why do you have a pistol and silencer in your desk? But think it through. If you kill us, do you think you will be allowed to just walk out even if no one hears the shots?"

"What other chance do I have? I'll just have to bluff my way through. I'm...sorry."

Suddenly a brick comes crashing through the office window. Immediately a very loud alarm begins sounding. The distraction allows Tyler the chance to act, and using his old angelic fighting skills, the startled Andrew Baker is quickly disarmed and subdued. Even as she hears Agent Brown thundering up the stairs, Joan goes to the window and sees the fleeing young man who threw the brick - Jim Dawes, ex-boyfriend and instrument of God in training.

X X X X X

3-28-08/Friday.

The flight back to Arcadia is on time, and Joan is glad to get home. Thursday had been the usual tedious government paperwork and debriefing while the actual evidence for prosecuting against Andrew baker Sr. was accumulated. It didn't take long, and soon the man was making all sorts of deals for leniency in exchange for testimony against those who hired him. Baker is luckier than he deserves and will only serve a short sentence for his crimes in some federal minimum security facility.

Joan's farewell to Aunt Theresa was warm and happy, with many plans for the summer family reunion. Joan also managed to squeeze in a farewell with Martha Danzig, closing that chapter in her life. There was one last farewell as Tyler rode with Joan to the airport in her compact rental. After turning in the car, and riding the shuttle back to the front entrance, they paused for their own farewell.

"Tyler, it was...interesting."

Tyler laughs, "That's one way of putting it. Joan, I'm going to miss you. Are you sure...?"

"Positive. You're a great guy, but I know, really know, who I am suppose to be with. I just hope I haven't blown my chance with him."

Tyler gives a sad smile. "Dylan Hunter is a lucky guy, but if things don't work out, remember there's a lonely billionaire who would always welcome you back."

Joan smiles too. "I suspect a guy like you won't be lonely for long."

"Not being alone isn't the same as being with the right one. I know that all too well, which is the only reason I'm accepting your decision and not fighting for you. I wish you all the best, Joan."

"I wish that for you too, Tyler. That includes your spiritual side. I can see you are miserable without 'Him' in your life. All of the success in the world won't mean squat to you until you settle matters with God."

"It's too late."

"As long as we're breathing, it's not too late. You will never know the truth about Sheila until you talk to him again. Isn't that what she would want you to do? Isn't that what is in your heart?"

"I know I can't lie to you. Yes, but will he speak to me again?"

"Tyler, tou know scripture. 'Knock and he will answer'."

"I'll...think about it. Goodbye Joan, I'll never forget you, and I'll never stop having regrets..."

Tyler leans in and they share a long, wistful kiss. They part and Joan sighs. If only...

Tyler slowly walks away, headed for the cab stand. Joan watches him leave and as Tyler reaches the waiting taxis, a Cabbie opens the door for him. Suddenly, Tyler shakes with emotion and drops to his knees. Joan has never seen this version, Cabdriver God, but she remembers a verse about the great rejoicing when a lost lamb returns...

Back in Arcadia...

Joan collects her bags from the luggage carousel and heads for the exit. Her truck is in long term parking, and she will be very glad to officially end this trip. As soon as she is home, Joan plans to call Dylan. She has no intention of telling him about her 'visit' with Tyler, it would be too hard to explain. Even with the assignment aspect of the trip, she doubts her...boyfirend would be accepting of her original intention to seduce another man. Just thinking about it causes Joan a flood of guilt in her soul...

"Joan?"

Dylan - standing there with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a welcoming smile. He wears his love for her openly on his happy face.

"I know we only have the weekend left of our spring break, but I couldn't resist flying out when I heard you were returning early..."

The smile disappears from Dylan's face as he goes pale. The flowers drop from his hand.

"You cheated on me."

THE END


End file.
